li 



iMMi! 



CHARLES SUMNER 



^tatc^man Coition 



Vol. I 



/ 



Charles Sumner 

HIS COMPLETE WORKS 

mii\} Introliurtion 

BY 

HON. GEORGE FRISBIE HOAR 




BOSTON 
LEE AND SHEPARD 

MCM 



TWO COPIES HECE1VE.\ 

L Ibrai-y of Ceis|fr©t% 

APR 3 1900 

Keglstar of Copyright* 






Copyright, 1899, 

BY 

LEE AND SHEPARD. 



57629 



Statesman l£tiitt0n. 

Limited to One Thousand Copies. 
Of which this is 



No. 



Norbjooft Press : 
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 



SECJNDCOPV. ?3J<^3 



oCW,Uo,/4^/ 



Believe me still, as I have ever been, 

The steadfast lover of my fellow-men ; 

My weakness, love of holy liberty ; 

My crime, the wish that all mankind were free : 

Free, not by blood ; redeemed, but not by crime ; 

Each fetter broken, but in God's good time. 

Whittier. 



NOTE. 

Ih this collection the arrangement is strictly chronological. 
Every article will be found according to its date, without ref- 
erence to the subject or occasion, thus showing the succession 
of eflforts as they occurred. 



CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 



PAGE 

INTRODUCTION. Br Hok. George Frisbie Hoar . vii 

The True Grandeur of Nations. An Oration before the 

Authorities of the City of Boston, July 4, 1845 . . 5 

Tribute of Friendship : The late Joseph Story. Article 

from the Boston Daily Advertiser, September 16, 1845 . 133 

The Wrong of Slavery. Speech at a Public Meeting in 
Faneuil Hall, Boston, against the Admission of Texas as 
a Slave State, November 4, 1845 149 

Equal Rights in the Lecture-Room. Letter to the Com- 
mittee of the New Bedford Lyceum, November 29, 1845 . 160 

Prisons and Prison Discipline. Article from the Christian 

Examiner, January, 1846 163 

The Employment of Time. Lecture before the Boston 
Lyceum, delivered in the Federal Street Theatre, Febru- 
ary 18, 1846 184 

Biographical Sketch of the late John Pickering. Ar- 
ticle in the Law Reporter of June, 1846 .... 214 

The Scholar, the Jurist, the Artist, the Philanthro- 
pist. An Oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of 
Harvard University, at their Anniversary, August 27, 
1846 241 

Antislavery Duties of the Whig Party. Speech at the 
Whig State Convention of Massachusetts, in Faneuil 
Hall, Boston, September 23, 1846 303 

V 



vi CONTENTS. 

PAOK 

Wrongful Declaration of War against Mexico. Letter 
to Hon. Robert C. Winthrop, Representative in Congress 
from Boston, October 25, 1846 317 

Refusal to be a Candidate for Congress. Notice in the 

Boston Papers, October 31, 1846 330 

Slavery and the Mexican War. Speech at a Public 
Meeting in the Tremont Temple, Boston, November 5, 
1846 333 

Invalidity of Enlistments in the Massachusetts Regi- 
ment OF Volunteers for the Mexican War. Argu- 
ment before the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, 
January, 1847 352 

Withdrawal of American Troops from Mexico. Speech 
at a Public Meeting in Faneuil Hall, Boston, February 4, 
1847 374 




Copynght.l899,by FVancesB Jo, 



GEORGE F. HOAR 



INTRODUCTION. 

By Hon. George Frisbie Hoar, LL.D. 

THE speeches of Charles Sumner have many titles 
to endure in the memory of mankind. They 
contain the reasons on which the American people 
acted in taking the successive steps in the revolution 
which overthrew slavery, and made of a race of 
slaves, freemen, citizens, voters. They have a high 
place in literature. They are not only full of histor- 
ical learning, set forth in an attractive way, but each 
of the more important of them was itself an histor- 
ical event. They afford a picture of a noble public 
character. They are an example of the application 
of the loftiest morality to the conduct of the State. 
They are an arsenal of weapons ready for the friends 
of Freedom in all the great battles when she may be 
in peril hereafter. They will not be forgotten 
unless the world shall attain to such height of 
virtue that no stimulant to virtue shall be needed, 
or to a depth of baseness from which no stimulant 
can arouse it. 

Mr. Sumner held the office of Justice of the Peace, 
and that of Commissioner of the Circuit Court, to 
which he was appointed by his friend and teacher. 
Judge Story. He was a member of the convention 
held in 1853 to revise the Constitution of the Com- 



VIU INTRODUCTIOir. 

monwealtli of Massachusetts. "With these excep- 
tions, his only official service was as Senator in Con- 
gress from Massachusetts, from the 4th of March, 
1851, when he was just past forty years of age, until 
his death, March 9, 1874. 

If his career could have been predicted in his 
earliest childhood, he could have had no better train- 
ing for his great duties than that he in fact received. 
He was one of the best scholars in the public Latin 
School in Boston. He received the Franklin medal 
from the hands of Daniel Webster, who told him that 
"the state had a pledge of him." His school life 
was followed by four years in Harvard College, and 
a course at the Harvard Law School, where he was 
the favorite pupil of Judge Story. He was an eager 
student of the Greek and Roman classics. But his 
special delight was in history and international law. 
After his admission to the bar he was reporter of the 
decisions of his beloved master, and edited twenty 
volumes of the equity reports of Vesey, Jr., which 
he enriched with copious and learned notes. A little 
later, when he was twenty-six years old, he spent a 
month in Washington, tarrying a short time in New 
York on his way. In that brief period he made life- 
long friendships with some famous men, including 
Chancellor Kent, Judge Marshall, and Francis Lieber. 
He had a rare gift for making friendships with men, 
especially with great men, and with women. With 
him in those days an acquaintance with any person 
worth knowing soon ripened into an indissoluble 
friendship. 

A few years later he spent a little more than two 



INTRODUCTION. IX 

years in Europe, coining home when he was just past 
twenty-nine years old. That time was spent in 
attending courts, lectures of eminent professors, and 
in society. No house which he desired to enter 
seems to have been closed to him. Statesmen, 
judges, scholars, beautiful women, leaders of fashion- 
able society, welcomed to the closest intimacy this 
young American of humble birth, with no passport 
other than his own character and attainment. It is 
hardly too much to say that the youth of twenty- 
nine had a larger and more brilliant circle of friend- 
ship than any other man on either continent. The 
list of his friends and correspondents would fill many 
pages. He says in a letter to Judge Story, what 
would seem like boasting in other men, but with 
him was modest and far within the truth : — 

" I have a thousand things to say to you about the 
law, circuit life, and the English judges. I have 
seen more of all than probably ever fell to the lot of 
a foreigner. I have had the friendship and confi- 
dence of judges, and of the leaders of the bar. Not 
a day passes without my being five or six hours in 
company with men of this stamp. My tour is no 
vulgar holiday affair, merely to spend money and to 
get the fashions. It is to see men, institutions, and 
laws ; and, if it would not seem vain in me, I would 
venture to say that I have not discredited my coun- 
try. I have called the attention of the judges and 
the profession to the state of the law in our country, 
and have shown them, by my conversation (I will 
say this), that I understand their jurisprudence." 

He returned from Europe bringing his sheaves with 



INTRODUCTION. 



him. He resolved to devote himself to the study 
and practice of jurisprudence, to avoid political 
strife and political office, hoping that he might, per- 
haps, at some future time, succeed to the chair of 
Judge Story at Harvard. He kept up his habit of 
incessant labor. He contributed to the reviews and 
newspapers a few essays on literature and juris- 
prudence, and some obituary notices of deceased 
friends. He became interested in prison discipline 
and in the cause of peace. In January, 1846, he 
engaged in an earnest debate in the Prison Disci- 
pline Society, in which he favored the system of 
separate imprisonment for criminals, and maintained 
his side with great power. July 4, 1845, he deliv- 
ered in Boston the oration printed in these volumes 
entitled, "The True Grandeur of Nations," which 
was declared by Richard Cobden to be the most 
powerful contribution to the cause of peace made by 
any modern writer. August 27, 1846, he delivered 
before the Phi Beta Kappa Society, at Harvard, 
his oration entitled, " The Scholar, The Jurist, The 
Artist, The Philanthropist," in which, in the form of 
eulogies of his four friends, Pickering, Story, Allston, 
and Channing, he set forth with masterly eloquence 
the beauties of the virtues of which they were shining 
examples. 

But he could not remain an indifferent spectator 
of the great contest then going on between freedom 
and slavery for the possession of the vast territory 
between the Mississippi and the Pacific. His first 
public speech against slavery, printed in these vol- 
umes, was delivered November 4, 1845. June 28, 



INTRODUCTION. XI 

1848, lie was present at the meeting in Worcester, 
where the Free Soil party, afterward the Republican 
party, was founded, and from that time was recog- 
nized in Massachusetts, and very largely throughout 
the country, as the most eloquent leader and champion 
of the political movement against slavery. He was 
elected to the seat of Daniel Webster, in the Senate 
of the United States, April 24, 1851, and took the 
oath of office December 1, 1851. The history of 
his career from that time to his death, the history 
of the great party he helped to found, the history 
of liberty in the United States, are almost identical. 

" The record of the cause he loved 
Is the best record of its friend." 

It was impossible for Charles Sumner to keep 
aloof from the great contest for which he was the 
best equipped champion alive, or to decline to obey 
the voice of the beloved commonwealth command- 
ing him to take his place in the front and heat of the 
battle. He had every quality of soul and intellect, 
every accomplishment, every equipment, needed to 
fit him for that lofty leadership. Emerson said of 
him that he had the whitest soul he ever knew. In 
such warfare no armor of proof is like the defence 
of absolute integrity, no temper of the sword is like 
that of perfect purity. 

" My good sword cleaves the casques of men, 
My tough lance thrusteth sure, 
My strength is as the strength of ten, 
Because my heart is pure." 



Xll INTRODUCTION. 

He was a man of absolute singleness of purpose 
and directness of aim. He went straight to his 
mark. His public life was devoted to one object, 
which absorbed his wliole soul ; that was to make 
righteousness and freedom controlling forces in the 
government of the country. He had no other ambi- 
tion. He desired public office only as he could make 
it an instrument to that end. He cared for history 
only as its lessons were lessons of justice and free- 
dom. He cared for literature only as he could draw 
from it persuasion, argument, or illustration which 
would advance that lofty purpose. He cared for art 
only when it taught a moral lesson. 

He had a marvellous capacity for work. From the 
beginning to the end, his life was a life of incessant 
labor. He had no idle moments. Even conversa- 
tion, in which he delighted, was an intellectual exer- 
cise. In college, the lonely light shone out from his 
study window, where he 

*' outwatched the Beax " 

long after the gayest of youthful revellers had gone 
to bed. Even in the heat of summer, in Washing- 
ton, his life was crowded with hard work. I have 
known him more than once to fix the hour of mid- 
night for a meeting with delegations with whom he 
could find no time in the busy day. 

The results of this incessant toil were retained in 
a memory from which nothing seemed to escape. 
As it was impossible for him to be idle, so it seemed 
impossible for him to forget. His mind was an 



INTRODUCTION. XUl 

encyclopaedia of the literature and history of consti- 
tutional liberty. 

He had an indomitable courage. He never flinched 
or hesitated. He was never troubled with doubts. 
He saw everything clearly, and could never under- 
stand the state of mind of a man who could not see 
things as he did. 

His was the most hopeful nature it was ever my 
fortune to know. The great virtue of hope, the 
central figure in the mighty group which the apostle 
tells us are forever to abide, possessed the very depths 
of his soul. He came into public life when slavery 
controlled every department of the government ; 
legislated tlirough Congress ; administered the law 
through the Executive ; sat on the bench of the 
Supreme Court. The first years of his public service 
were years of signal victories of the slaveholding 
power. To common men the day seemed constantly 
growing darker and darker, and the cause of free- 
dom more and more hopeless. Sumner never abated 
one jot or tittle of his sublime confidence. The 
close of some of his speeches in those days is a trum- 
pet note of triumph. 

When he was stricken down in the Senate-chamber 
by the bludgeon of an assassin, his first conscious 
utterance as he recovered from the stupor caused by 
the terrible blows upon his head was that he would 
renew the conflict with slavery in the Senate as soon 
as he could return there. In his first public speech, 
a few weeks afterward, he said : " You have already 
made allusion to the suffering which I have under- 
gone. This is not small, but it has been incurred in 



XIT INTRODUCTION. 

the performance of duty ; and how small is it com- 
pared with that tale of woe which is perpetually 
coming to us from the house of bondage ! With 
you I hail the omens of final triumph. I ask no 
prophet to confirm this assurance. The future is 
not less secure than the past." 

He prefixed to his own edition of his works the 
motto from Leibnitz : — 

" Veniet fortasse aliud tempus, dignius nostro, 
Quo, debellatis odiis, Veritas triumphabit." 

But there was no " fortasse " about it, to his con- 
fident and triumphant faith. 

He had a gentle, affectionate, and magnanimous 
nature, incapable of hatred or revenge. In spite of 
his severity of speech, his differences with men were 
differences of principle, never personal. There is 
no nobler sentence in political history than that with 
which he begins his first speech after his injury, 
when he got back from Europe and took his place 
again in the Senate : — 

" Mr. President : Undertaking now, after a silence 
of more than four years, to address the Senate on 
this important subject, I should suppress the emo- 
tions natural to such an occasion, if I did not declare 
on the threshold my gratitude to that Supreme 
Being through whose benign care I am enabled, 
after much suffering and many changes, once again 
to resume my duties here, and to speak for the cause 
so near my heart. To the honored commonwealth 
whose representative I am, and also to my immediate 



INTRODUCTION. XV 

associates in this body, with whom I enjoy the 
fellowship which is found in thinking alike concern- 
ing the Republic^ I owe thanks, which I seize the 
moment to express, for indulgence extended to me 
throughout the protracted seclusion enjoined on me 
by medical skill ; and I trust it will not be thought 
unbecoming in me to put on record here, as an apol- 
ogy for leaving my seat so long vacant, without 
making way, by resignation, for a successor, that 
I acted under the illusion of an invalid, whose hopes 
for restoration to natural health continued against 
oft recurring disappointment. 

" When last I entered into this debate, it became 
my duty to expose the crime against Kansas, and to 
insist upon the immediate admission of that territory 
as a state of this Union, with a constitution forbid- 
ding slavery. Time has passed, but the question 
remains. Resuming the discussion precisely where 
I left it, I am happy to avow that rule of modera- 
tion which, it is said, may venture to fix the boun- 
daries of wisdom itself. I have no personal griefs to 
utter ; only a vulgar egotism could intrude such into 
this chamber. I have no personal wrongs to avenge ; 
only a brutish nature could attempt to wield that 
vengeance which belongs to the Lord. The years 
that have intervened and the tombs that have opened 
since I spoke ^ have their voices, too, which I cannot 
fail to hear. Besides, what am I, what is any man 
among the living or among the dead, compared with 
the question before us ? It is this alone which I 

1 Preston S. Brooks and Senator Butler had both died in the 
interval. 



XVI INTRODUCTION. 

shall discuss, and I begin the argument with that 
easy victory which is found in charity." 

He was proud that he was an American, proud of 
his State, proud of his birthplace, proud of his office. 
To his mind the most exalted position on earth was the 
position of a Senator of the United States. And if 
he thought that to be a Massachusetts Senator was a 
prouder title still, who shall blame him ? From the 
beginning he had Massachusetts behind him ; when 
he spoke from his seat, it was the voice, not of a 
man, but of a commonwealth. 

It seemed sometimes as if he thought everything 
that had been accomplished for freedom was accom- 
plished in the Senate ; that even the war was but a 
tumult which had disturbed the debates, somewhat. 
He kept his senatorial robe unstained. He seemed 
never to lay it aside. There was no place in his life 
for jesting or trifling. He had no sense of humor. 
The pledge which he took upon his lips when he 
entered upon his great office he kept religiously to 
the end. " To vindicate freedom and oppose slavery 
is the object near my heart. Others may become 
indifferent to these principles, bartering them for 
political success, vain and short-lived, or forgetting 
the visions of youth in the dreams of age. When- 
ever I forget them, whenever I become indifferent to 
them, whenever I cease to be constant in maintain- 
ing them through good report and evil report, then 
may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, may 
my right hand forget its cunning." 

His political creed, his political Bible, his Ten 



INTKODUCTIOS". XVU 

Commandments, his Golden Rule, were the Declara- 
tion of Independence and the Constitution of the 
United States penetrated, illuminated, interpreted 
by the Declaration of Independence. There was not 
a syllable in that august document to be omitted or 
qualified. It was to him a permanent, perfect, uni- 
versal law of national life. 

On many of the great questions with which the 
American people had to deal for the last thirty years 
of his life, — from 18-14 to 1874 — he was the leader 
and guide. His speeches on these subjects, con- 
tained in these volumes, were the speeches which 
attracted widest public attention at the time. They 
contained the arguments which convinced the public 
mind. They are^probably, in most cases, the only 
ones remembered now. Toward the close of his 
life he gave much study to the questions of finance 
and currency. If his life had been spared he doubt- 
less would have been foremost in conducting the 
country in the path of financial safety and integrity. 
The titles of the following speeches, to which many 
others might be added, suggest the principal subjects 
with which he dealt. 

Vol. I. 

The True Grandeur of Nations. July 4, 1845. 

The Wrong of Slavery. Nov. 4, 1845. 

Equal Rights in the Lecture Room. (Letter.) Nov. 29, 1845. 

Prison Discipline. (Separate System.) January, 1846. 

Scholar, Jurist, etc. Ph. B. R. Aug. 27, 1846. 

Antislavery Duties of the Whig Party. Sept. 23, 1846. 

Withdrawal of Troops from Mexico. Feb. 4, 1847. 



xviu introduction". 

Vol. II. 
White Slavery in the Barbary States. Feb. 17, 1847. 
Fame and Glory. Aug. 11, 1847. 
Sundry Speeches in behalf of New Party to oppose Slavery. 

(1847-1851.) 
War System of Nations. May 28, 1849. 

Vol. III. 

Equality before the Law. Dec. 4, 1849. 

Welcome to Kossuth. Dec. 10, 1851. 

Justice to the Land States. Jan. 27, Feb. 17, March 16, 1852. 

Cheap Ocean Postage. March 8, 1852. 

Pardoning Power of the President. May 14, 1852. 

Freedom National, Slavery Sectional. Aug. 26, 1852. 

Vol. TV. 
The Basis of the Representative System. July 7, 1853. 
Bills of Rights. July 25, 1853. 
Repeal of the Missouri Compromise. Feb. 21, 1854. 
Final Protest against Slavery in Nebraska and Kansas. May 

25, 1854. 
Union of all Parties against the Slave Power. May 29, 1854. 

Vol. V. 
Origin of Appropriation Bills. Feb. 7, 1856. 
Abrogation of Treaties. May 8, 1856. 
The Crime against Kansas. May 19, 20, 1856. 

Vol. VI. 
The Electric Telegraph. Aug. 17, 1858. 
The Barbarism of Slavery. June 4, 1860. 

Vol. VII. 

Lafayette. Nov. 30, 1860. 

No Surrender of the Northern Forts, against the Crittenden 

Compromise. Feb. 15, 1861. 
Object of the War. July 24, 1861. 
Sympathies of the Civilized World not to be repelled. Speech 

against Increase of 10 per cent on all Duties. July 29, 1861. 



INTRODUCTION. xix 

Emancipation our Best "Weapon. Oct. 1, 1861. 
Slavery the Origin and Mainspring of the Rebellion. Nov. 27, 
1861. 

Vol. VIII. 

Revision and Consolidation of the National Statutes. Dec. 12, 

1861. 
Trent Case and Maritime Rights. Jan. 9, 1862. 
Treasury Notes a Legal Tender. Feb. 13, 1862. 
Help for Mexico against Foreign Intervention. Feb. 19, 1862. 
State Suicide and Emancipation. March 6, 1862. 
Final Independence of Haiti and Liberia. April 23, 1862. 
Final Suppression of the Slave Trade. April 24, 1862. 
Emancipation in the District. April 28, 1862. 
No Names of Victories over Fellow-citizens on Regimental 

Colors. May 8, 1862. 
Testimony of Colored Persons. May 12, 1862. 

Vol. IX. 
Rights of Sovereignty and Rights of War. May 19, 1862. 
Help from Slaves. May 26, 1862. 
Tax on Cotton. May 27, 1862. 
War Powers of Congress. June 27, 1862. 
The Proclamation of Emancipation. Oct. 6, 1862. 
Emancipation Proclamation our Corner-stone. Oct. 10, 1862. 
Prudence in our Foreign Relations. Feb. 3, 1863. 
Employment of Colored Troops. Feb. 9, 1863. 
Pacific Railroad. May 23, 1863. 

Vol. X. 
Our Foreign Relations. Sept. 10, 1863. 
Power of Congress over the Rebel States. Atlantic Monthly. 

October, 1863. 
Equal Pay of Colored Soldiers. Feb. 10, 1864. 

Vol. XI. 
French Spoliation Claims reported. April 4, 1864. 
National Banks and the Currency. April 27, 1864. 
Reform in the Civil Service. April 30, 1864. 
Slavery and the Rebellion One and Inseparable. Nov. 5, 1864. 



XX INTKODUCTIOK. 

Vol. XII. 
Motion to admit a Colored Lawyer to the Bar of the Supreme 

Court of the United States. Feb. 1, 1865. 
Participation of Rebel States not necessary in Eatification of 

Constitutional Amendments. Feb. 4, 1865. 
Opinion on the Case of the Smith Brothers. March 17, 1865. 
Guaranties for the National Freedmen and the National Credi- 
tor. Sept. 14, 1865. 

Vol. Xin. 

Republican Form of Government the Essential Condition of 
Peace. Dec. 4, 1865. 

Equal Rights of Colored Persons to be protected in the Na- 
tional Courts. Dec. 4, 1865. 

Whitewashing by the President. Dec. 19, 1865. 

Protection of the National Debt. Jan. 5, 1866. 

Protection of Civil Rights. Feb. 9, 1866. 

Vol. XIV. 
Ship Canal through the Isthmus of Darien. July 25, 1866. 
Metric System. July 27, 1866. 
The One Man Power versus Congress. Oct. 2, 1866. 
Cheap Books and Public Libraries. Jan. 24, 1867. 

Vol. XV. 
Cession of Russian America to the United States. April 9, 
1867. 

Vol. XVI. 

Are We a Nation ? Nov. 19, 1867. 

Expulsion of the President. Impeachment of Andrew John- 
son. May 26, 1868. 
Specie Payments. July 11, 1868. 

Vol. XVn. 
Powers of Congress to prohibit Inequality, Caste, etc. Feb. 5, 

1869. 
Claims on England. April 13 ; Sept. 22, 1869. 
Return to Specie Payments. Dec. 7, 1869. 
Cuban Belligerency. Dec. 15, 1869. 
Specie Payments. Jan. 12, 26 ; Feb. 1 ; March 2, 10, 11, 1870. 



INTRODUCTION. XXI 

Vol. XVm. 

One Cent Postage with Abolition of Franking. June 10, 1870. 

Duel between France and Germany. Oct. 26, 1870. 

Naboth's Vineyard Speech on Proposed Annexation of San 

Domingo. Dec. 21, 1870. 
Italian Unity. Jan. 10, 1871. 

Vol. XIX. 

Violations of International Law and Usurpations of War 

Powers. March 27, 1871. 
One Term for President. Dec. 21, 1871, 

Vol. XX. 

Arbitration a Substitute for War. May 31, 1872. 

Republicanism versus Grantism. May 31, 1872. 

No Names of Battles with Fellow-citizens on the Regimental 

Colors of the United States. Dec. 2, 1872. 
International Arbitration. July 10, 1873. 
Civil Rights Bill. Jan. 27, 1874. 

If any one doubt the practical sagacity and con- 
summate statesmanship of Charles Sumner let him 
read the speech in the Trent case. He had a most 
difficult task. He had to reconcile a people smart- 
ing under the sting of English disdain and dislike to 
meet an insolent demand to give up men we had 
taken from an English ship, when every man in the 
United States believed England would have taken 
them from us in a like case ; and to do this not only 
without dishonor, but so as to turn an apparent 
defeat into victory. The English cabinet, as is 
often the case with men who act arrogantly, acted 



XXU INTRODUCTION. 

hastily. They put their demand and their menace 
of war on grounds which justified us and put them 
in the wrong on the great contention which had 
existed from the beginning of our government. 
The United States had been, till the outbreak of the 
civil war, and hoped to be forever after that war 
was over, a great neutral power. She was concerned 
to establish the immunity of the decks of her ships. 
Sumner saw and seized our opportunity. Great as 
was the influence of President Lincoln, it seems 
unlikely that even his authority would have recon- 
ciled the American people to the surrender of Mason 
and Slidell without the support of Sumner. It 
would certainly have been a terrible strain upon his 
administration. 

None of these speeches bears the marks of haste. 
In general no important consideration is overlooked 
and no important authority fails to be cited. Several 
of them were addressed to the Senate at a time when 
in the beginning he was able to convince scarcely 
anybody but himself. But in the end Senate and 
people came to his opinion. 

Let me repeat what I said in reviewing Mr. Pierce's 
admirable biography : — 

" Let us hope that these volumes will always be a 
text-book for Americans. Let successive genera- 
tions be brought up on the story of the noble life 
of Charles Sumner. Let the American youth think 
of these things. They are things true, honest, just, 
lovely, and of good report. There is virtue in them 
and praise, if there be any virtue, and if there be any 



TNTROBUCTION. XXiii 

praise. They do not belong to fiction, but to his- 
tory. It is no Grecian, or Roman, or English hero- 
ism that the youth is invited to study. Charles 
Sumner belongs to us. His youth was spent under 
a humble American roof. His training was in an 
American school and college. He sleeps in Ameri- 
can soil. He is ours, wholly and altogether. His 
figure will abide in history like that of St. Michael 
in art, an emblem of celestial purity, of celestial zeal, 
of celestial courage. It will go down to immortality 
with its foot upon the dragon of slavery, and with 
the sword of the spirit in its hand, but with a tender 
light in its eye, and a human love in its smile. Guido 
and Raphael conceived their ' inviolable saint,' 

" ' Invulnerable, impenetrably armed ; 
Such high advantages his innocence 
Gave him above his foe ; not to have sinned, 
Not to have disobeyed ; in fight he stood 
Unwearied, unobnoxious, to be pained 
By wounds.' 

The Michael of the painters, as a critic of genius 
akin to their own has pointed out, rests upon his 
prostrate foe light as a morning cloud, no muscle 
strained, with unbacked sword and unruffled wings, 
his bright tunic and shining armor without a rent or 
stain. Not so with our human champion. He had 
to bear the bitterness and agony of a long and doubt- 
ful struggle, with common weapons and against ter- 
rible odds. He came out of it with soiled garments, 
and with a mortal wound, but without a regret and 
without a memory of hate." 



XXIV INTRODUCTION. 

Charles Sumner will always be a foremost figure 
in our history. His name will be a name to conjure 
with. Whenever freedom is in peril ; whenever jus- 
tice is menaced, whenever the race, whose right he 
vindicated, shall be trodden under foot, those lips of 
stone, from the stately antechamber of the Senate, 
will again utter their high commands. The noble 
form of Charles Sumner, to the vision of the lovers 
of liberty, will seem to take its place again in the 
front of the battle. 

" Pass thou first, thou dauntless heart, 
As thou wert wont of yore." 

Worcester, 
December, 1899. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 



An Oration before the Authorities of the City 
OF Boston, July 4, 1845. 



0, yet a nobler task awaits thy hand, 

(For what can war but endless war still breed?) 

Till truth and right from violence be freed. 

Milton, Sonnet to Fairfax. 



Pax optima rernm 
Qnas homini novisse datum est; pax una triumphis 
Innumeris potior; pax custodire salutem 
Et cives aequare potens. 

SiLius Italicus, Puruca, Lib. XI. w. 592 - 595. 

Sed majoris est gloriaB ipsa hdla verba occidere quam homines ferro, 
et acquirere vel obtinere pacem pace, non bello. — Augustini Epistola 
CCLXii., ad Darium Comitem. 

Certainly, if all who look upon themselves as men, not so much from 
the shape of their bodies as because they are endowed with reason, would 
listen awhile unto Christ's wholesome and peaceable decrees, and not, 
puffed up with arrogance and conceit, rather believe their own opinions 
than his admonitions, the whole world long ago (turning the use of 
iron into milder works) should have lived in most quiet tranquillity, and 
have met together in a firm and indissoluble league of most safe con- 
cord. — Arnobius Afer, Adversus Gentes, Lib. I. c. 6. 

And so for the first time [three hundred years after the Christian era] 
the meek and peaceful Jesus became a God of Battle, and the cross, the 
holy sign of Christian redemption, a banner of bloody strife. This ir- 
reconcilable incongruity between the symbol of universal peace and the 
horrors of war, in my judgment, is conclusive against the miraculous 
or supernatural character of the transaction [the vision of Constantine]. 

— I was agreeably surprised to find that Mosheim concurred in these 
sentiments, for which I mil readily encounter the charge of Quakerism. 

— MiLMAN, History of Christianity, Book III. chap. 1. 

When you see fighting, be peaceable ; for a peaceable disposition shuts 
the door of contention. Oppose kindness to perverseness ; the sharp 
sword will not cut soft silk. By using sweet words and gentleness you 
may lead an elephant with a hair. — Saadi, TTie Gulistan, translated by 
Francis Gladwin, Chap. III. Tale 28. 

Si Ton vous disait que tous les chats d'un grand pays se sont assem- 
bles par milliers dans une plaine, et qu'apres avoir miaule tout leur 
saoul, ils se sont jetes avec fureur les uns sur les autres, et ont joue en- 
semble de la dent et de la griffe, que de cette melee il est demeure de 
part et d'autre neuf a dix mille chats sur la place, qui ont infecte I'air 
a dix lieues de la par leur puanteur, ne diriez-vous pas, " Voilk le plus 
abominable sabbat dont on ait jamais oui parler " 1 Et si les loups 
en faisaient de meme, quels hurlements ! quelle boucherie ! Et si les uns 
ou les autres vous disaient qu'ils aiment la gloire, . . . . ne ririez-vous 
pas de tout votre coeur de I'ingenuite de ces pauvres betes? — La 
BRUxiiRE, Les Caracteres : Des Jugements. 



He was disposed to dissent fi-om the maxim, which had of late years 
received very general assent, that the best security for the continuance 
of peace was to be prepared for war. That was a maxim which might 
have been applied to the nations of antiquity, and to society in a com- 
paratively barbarous and uncivilized state Men, when they adopted 

such a maxim, and made large preparations in time of peace that would 
be sufficient in time of war, were apt to be influenced by the desire to 
put their efficiency to the test, that all their great preparations and the 
result of their toil and expense might not be thrown away. — Earl of 
Aberdeen, Hansard's Parliamentary Debates, July 20, 1849. 

Bellum para, si pacem velis, was a maxim regarded by many as con- 
taining an incontestable truth. It was one, in his opinion, to be received 

with great caution, and admitting of much qualification We 

should best consult the true interests of the country by husbanding our 
resources in a time of peace, and, instead of a lavish expenditure on all 
the means of defence, by placing some trust in the latent and dormant 
energies of the nation. — Sir Robert Peel, Hansard's Parliamentary 
Debates, March 12, 1850. 

Let us terminate this disastrous system of rival expenditure, and mu- 
tually agree, with no hypocrisy, but in a manner and under circimi- 
stances which can admit of no doubt, — by a reduction of armaments, — 
that peace is really our policy. — Mb. D'Israeli, Hansard's Parlia- 
mentary Debates, July 21, 1859. 

All high titles of honor come hitherto from fighting. Your Herzog 
(Duke, Dux) is Leader of Armies ; your Earl (Jarl) is Strong Man ; 
your Marshal, Cavalry Horseshoer. A Millennium, or Reign of Peace 
and Wisdom, having from of old been prophesied, and becoming now 
daily more and more indubitable, may it not be apprehended that such 
fighting titles will cease to be palatable, and new and higher need to 
be devised ? — Carlylb, Sartor Resartus, Book HI. chap. 7. 

After the memorable conflict of June, 1848, in which, as Chefde Ba- 
taillon, he [Ary Scheffer] had shown a capacity for military conduct not 
less remarked than his cool courage. General Changarnier, then com- 
manding the National Guard of Paris, tendered to Scheffi?r's accept- 
ance the cross of Commandeur. He replied, " Had this honorable dis- 
tinction been offered to me in my quality of Artist, and as a recognition 
of the merit of my works, I should receive it with deference and sat- 
isfaction. But to carry about me a decoration reminding me only 
of the horrors of civil war is what I cannot consent to do." — Art 
Scheffer, Life by Mrs, Grote, Appendix. 



Additional examples and illustrations have been Introduced into this 
Oration since its publication, but the argument and substance remain the 
same. It was at the time the occasion of considerable controversy, and 
many were disturbed by what Mr. Sumner called his Declaration of War 
against War. This showed itself at the dinner in Faneuil Hall immediately 
after the delivery. There was friendly dissent also, as appears from the 
letters of Judge Story and Mr. Prescott, which will be found in the biogra- 
phies of those eminent persons. A letter from John A. Andrew, afterwards 
the distinguished Governor of Massachusetts, shows the completeness of his 
sympathy. " You will allow me to say, I hope," he writes, " that I have 
read the Oration with a satisfaction only equalled by that with which I 
heard you on the 4th July. And while I thank you a thousand times for 
the choice you made of a topic, as well as for the fidelity and brilliant 
ability which you brought to its illustration, (both, to my mind, defying 
the most carping criticism,) I cannot help expressing also my gratitude to 
Providence, that here, in our city of Boston, one has at last stepped for- 
ward to consecrate to celestial hopes the day — the great day — which 
Americans have at best heretofore held sacred only to memory." 

The Oration was noticed extensively at home and abroad. Two or more 
editions were printed by the City Government, one by the booksellers, 
Messrs. W. D. Ticknor & Co., and several by the American Peace Society, 
which has recently issued another, making a small volume. Another 
edition appeared in London. Portions have been printed and circulated as 
tracts. There was also an abridgment in Philadelphia, edited by Professor 
Charles D. Cleveland, and another in Liverpool, by Mr. Richard Rathbone. 



ORATION. 



IN accordance with uninterrupted usage, on this Sab- 
bath of the Nation, we have put aside our daily 
cares, and seized a respite from the never-ending toils 
of life, to meet in gladness and congratulation, mindful 
of the blessings transmitted from the Past, mindful also, 
I trust, of our duties to the Present and the Future. 

All hearts turn first to the Fathers of the Eepublic. 
Their venerable forms rise before us, in the procession 
of successive generations. They come from the frozen 
rock of Plymouth, from the wasted bands of Ealeigh, 
from the heavenly companionship of Penn, from the 
anxious coimcils of the Eevolution, — from all those 
fields of sacrifice, where, in obedience to the spirit of 
their age, they sealed their devotion to duty with their 
blood. They say to us, their children, " Cease to vaunt 
what you do, and what has been done for you. Learn 
to walk meekly and to think humbly. Cultivate habits 
of self-sacrifice. Never aim at what is not right, per- 
suaded that without this every possession and all knowl- 
edge will become an evil and a shame. And may these 
words of ours be ever in your minds ! Strive to increase 
the inheritance we have bequeathed to you, — bearing in 
mind always, that, if we excel you in virtue, such a vie- 



6 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

tory will be to us a mortification, while defeat will bring 
happiness. In this way you may conquer us. Noth- 
ing is more shameful for a man than a claim to esteem, 
not on his own merits, but on the fame of Ms ancestors. 
The glory of the fathers is doubtless to their children a 
most precious treasure ; but to enjoy it without trans- 
mission to the next generation, and without addition, is 
the extreme of ignominy. Eollowing these counsels, 
when your days on earth are finished, you will come 
to join us, and we shall receive you as friend receives 
friend ; but if you neglect our words, expect no happy 
greeting from us." ^ 

Honor to the memory of our fathers ! May the turf 
lie lightly on their sacred graves ! Not in words only, 
but in deeds also, let us testify our reverence for their 
name, imitating what in them was lofty, pure, and 
good, learning from them to bear hardship and priva- 
tion. May we, who now reap in strength what they 
sowed in weakness, augment the inheritance we have 
received ! To this end, we must not fold our hands in 
slumber, nor abide content with the past. To each 
generation is appointed its peculiar task ; nor does the 
heart which responds to the call of duty find rest ex- 
cept in the grave. 

Be ours the task now in the order of Providence cast 
upon us. And what is this duty ? What can we do to 
make our coming welcome to our fathers in the skies, 
and draw to our memory hereafter the homage of a 
grateful posterity ? How add to the inheritance re- 
ceived ? The answer must interest all, particularly on 

1 This is borrowed almost literally from the words attributed by Plato 
to the Fathers of Athens, in the beautiful funeral discourse of the Me- 
nexenus. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 7 

this festival, when we celebrate the Nativity of the Ee- 
public. It well becomes the patriot citizen, on this 
anniversary, to consider the national character, and how 
it may be advanced, — as the good man dedicates his 
birthday to meditation on his life, and to resolutions 
of improvement. Avoiding, then, all exultation in the 
abounding prosperity of the land, and in that free- 
dom whose influence is widening to the uttermost cir- 
cles of the earth, I would turn attention to the char- 
acter of our countr}'', and humbly endeavor to learn 
what must be done that the Eepublic may best secure 
the weKare of the people committed to its care, — that 
it may perform its part in the world's history, — that it 
may fulfil the aspirations of generous hearts, — and, 
practising that righteousness which exalteth a nation, 
attain to the elevation of True Grandeur. 

With this aim, and believing that I can in no other 
way so fitly fulfil the trust reposed in me to-day, I pur- 
pose to consider what, in our age, are the true objects of 
national ambition, — ivhat is truly National Honor, 
National Glory, — what is the true grandeur of 
NATIONS. I would not depart from the modesty that 
becomes me, yet I am not without hope that I may do 
something to rescue these terms, now so powerful over 
the minds of men, from mistaken objects, especially 
from deeds of war, and the extension of empire, that 
they may be applied to works of justice and benefi- 
cence, which are better than war or empire. 

The subject may be novel, on an occasion like the 
present ; but it is comprehensive, and of transcendent 
importance. It raises us to the contemplation of things 
not temporary or local, but belonging to all ages and 



8 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

countries, — things lofty as Truth, universal as Hu- 
manity. Nay, more; it practically concerns the gen- 
eral welfare, not only of our own cherished Kepub- 
lic, but of the whole Federation of Nations. It has 
an urgent interest from transactions in which we are 
now unhappily involved. By an act of unjust legis- 
lation, extending our power over Texas, peace with 
Mexico is endangered, — while, by petulant assertion 
of a disputed claim to a remote territory beyond the 
Eocky Mountains, ancient fires of hostile strife are 
kindled anew on the hearth of our mother country. 
Mexico and England both avow the determination to 
vindicate what is called the National Honor ; and our 
Government calmly contemplates the dread Arbitra- 
ment of War, provided it cannot obtaia what is called 
an honorable peace. 

Far from our nation and our age be the sin and 
shame of contests hateful in the sight of God and all 
good men, having their origin in no righteous sentiment, 
no true love of country, no generous thirst for fame, 
" that last infirmity of noble mind," but springing mani- 
festly from an ignorant and ignoble passion for new ter- 
ritory, strengthened, in our case, in a republic whose 
star is Liberty, by unnatural desire to add new links 
in chains destined yet to fall from the limbs of the 
unhappy slave ! In such contests God has no attribute 
which can join with us. Who believes that the na- 
tional honor would be promoted by a war with Mexico 
or a war with England ? What just man would sacri- 
fice a single human life to bring under our rule both 
Texas and Oregon ? An ancient Roman, ignorant of 
Christian truth, touched only by the relation of fellow- 
countryman, and not of feUow-man, said, as he turned 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 9 

aside from a career of Asiatic conquest, that he would 
rather save the life of a single citizen than win to his 
power aU the dominions of Mithridates.^ 

A war with Mexico would be mean and cowardly; 
with England it would be bold at least, though parrici- 
dal. The heart sickens at the murderous attack upon 
an enemy distracted by civil feud, weak at home, impo- 
tent abroad ; but it recoils in horror from the deadly shock 
between children of a common ancestry, speaking the 
same language, soothed in infancy by the same words 
of love and tenderness, and hardened into vigorous man- 
hood imder the bracing influence of institutions instinct 
with the same vital breath of freedom. The Eoman his- 
torian has aptly pictured this unnatural combat. Earely 
do words of the past so justly describe the present. Cil- 
ram acuebat, quod adversus Latinos hellandum erat, lin- 
gua, moribus, armorum genere, institutis ante omnia 
militaribus congruentes : niilites militibics, centurioni- 
hiis centuriones, tribuni tribunis compares collegceque, 
iisdem pra;sidiis, scepe iisdem manipulis permixti fue- 
rant? 

Can there be in our age any peace that is not hon- 
orable, any war that is not dishonorable ? The true 
honor of a nation is conspicuous only in deeds of 
justice and beneficence, securing and advancing hu- 
man happiness. In the clear eye of that Christian 
judgment which must yet prevail, vain are the victo- 
ries of War, infamous its spoils. He is the benefactor, 
and worthy of honor, who carries comfort to wretched- 
ness, dries the tear of sorrow, relieves the unfortu- 
nate, feeds the hungry, clothes the naked, does jus- 
tice, enlightens the ignorant, unfastens the fetters of 

1 Plutarch, Lucullus, Cap. Ylll. 2 Uvy, Hist., Lib. VIH. c. 6. 



10 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

the slave, and jfinally, by virtuous genius, in art, lit- 
erature, science, enlivens and exalts the hours of life, 
or, by generous example, inspires a love for God and 
man. This is the Christian hero ; this is the man of 
honor in a Christian land. He is no benefactor, nor 
worthy of honor, whatever his worldly renown, whose 
life is absorbed in feats of brute force, who renounces 
the great law of Christian brotherhood, whose vocation 
is blood. Well may the modern poet exclaim, "The 
world knows nothing of its greatest men ! " — for thus 
far it has chiefly honored the violent brood of Battle, 
armed men springing up from the dragon's teeth sown 
by Hate, and cared little for the truly good men, chil- 
dren of Love, guiltless of their country's blood, whose 
steps on earth are noiseless as an angel's wing. 

It will not be disguised that this standard differs from 
that of the world even in our day. The voice of man 
is yet given to martial praise, and the honors of victory 
are chanted even by the lips of woman. The mother, 
rocking the infant on her knee, stamps the images of 
War upon his tender mind, at that age more im- 
pressible than wax; she nurses his slumber with its 
music, pleases his waking hours with its stories, and 
selects for his playthings the plume and the sword. 
From the child is formed the man ; and who can weigh 
the influence of a mother's spirit on the opinions of his 
life ? The mind which trains the child is like a hand 
at the end of a long lever ; a gentle effort suffices to 
heave the enormous weight of succeeding years. As the 
boy advances to youth, he is fed like Achilles, not on 
honey and milk only, but on bears' marrow and lions' 
hearts. He draws the nutriment of his soul from a lit- 
erature whose beautiful fields are moistened by human 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 11 

blood. Fain would I offer my tribute to the Father of 
Poetry, standing with harp of immortal melody on the 
misty mountain-top of distant Antiquity, — to those 
stories of courage and sacrifice which emblazon the an- 
nals of Greece and Kome, — to the fulminations of De- 
mosthenes and the splendors of Tully, — to the sweet 
verse of Virgil and the poetic prose of Livy ; fain would 
I offer my tribute to the new literature, which shot up 
in modem times as a vigorous forest from the burnt site 
of ancient woods, — to the passionate song of the Trou- 
badour in France and the Minnesinger in Germany, — 
to the thrilling ballad of Spain and the delicate music 
of the Itahan lyre : but from all these has breathed the 
breath of War, that has swept the heart-strings of men 
in all the thronging generations. 

And when the youth becomes a man, his country in- 
vites his service in war, and holds before his bewildered 
imagination the prizes of worldly honor. For him the 
pen of the historian and the verse of the poet. His 
soul is taught to swell at the thought that he, too, is a 
soldier, — that his name shall be entered on the list of 
those who have borne arms for their country ; and per- 
haps he dreams that he, too, may sleep, like the Great 
Captain of Spain, with a hundred trophies over his 
grave. The law of the land throws its sanction over 
this frenzy. The contagion spreads beyond those sub- 
ject to positive obligation. Peaceful citizens volunteer 
to appear as soldiers, and affect, in dress, arms, and de- 
portment, what is called the "pride, pomp, and circum- 
stance of glorious war." The ear-piercing fife has to- 
day filled our streets, and we have come to this church, 
on this National Sabbath, by the thump of drum and 
with the parade of bristling bayonets. 



12 THE TRUE GRA2IDEUR OF NATIONS. 

It is not strange, then, that the Spirit of War still 
finds a home among us, nor that its honors continue to 
be regarded. All this may seem to illustrate the bitter 
philosophy of Hobbes, declaring that the natural state 
of mankind is War, and to sustain the exulting language 
of the soldier in our own day, when he wrote, " War is the 
condition of this world. From man to the smallest in- 
sect, all are at strife ; and the glory of arms, which can- 
not be obtained without the exercise of honor, fortitude, 
courage, obedience, modesty, and temperance, excites 
the brave man's patriotism, and is a chastening correc- 
tive for the rich man's pride." ^ This is broad and bold. 
In madder mood, another British general is reported as 
saying, " Why, man, do you know that a grenadier is 
the greatest character in this world," — and after a mo- 
ment's pause, with the added emphasis of an oath, " and, 
I believe, in the next, too." ^ All these spoke in har- 
mony. If one is true, all are true. A French voice has 
struck another note, chanting nothing less than the di- 
vinity of war, hailing it as " divine " in itself, — " di- 
vine" in its consequences, — "divine" ia mysterious glory 
and seductive attraction, — " divine " in the manner of 
its declaration, — " divine " in the results obtained, — 
" divine " in the undefinable force by which its tri- 
umph is determined ; ^ and the whole earth, continually 
imbibing blood, is nothing but an immense altar, where 
life is immolated without end, without measure, with- 
out respite. But this oracle is not saved from rejec- 
tion even by the magistral style in which it is deliv- 
ered. 

1 Napier, Peninsular War, Book XXIV. ch. 6, Vol. VI. p. 688. 

2 Southey, Colloquies on the Progress and Prospects of Society, Coll. VIII., 
Vol. I. p. 211. 

8 Joseph de Maistre, Soirees de Saint-P^tersbourg, Tom. II. pp. 27, 32 - 35. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 13 

Alas ! in the existing attitude of nations, the infidel 
philosopher and the rhetorical soldier, to say notliing 
of the giddy general and the French priest of Mars, find 
too much support for a theory which degrades human 
nature and insults the goodness of God. It is true that 
in us are impulses unhappily tending to strife. Pro- 
pensities possessed in common with the beast, if not 
subordinated to what in man is human, almost divine, 
will break forth in outrage. This is the predominance 
of the animal. Hence wars and fightings, with the 
false glory which crowns such barbarism. But the 
true civilization of nations, as of individuals, is deter- 
mined by the extent to which these evil dispositions are 
restrained. Nor does the teacher ever more truly per- 
form his high ofiice than when, recognizing the suprem- 
acy of the moral and intellectual, he calls upon nations, 
as upon individuals, to declare independence of the bes- 
tial, to abandon practices founded on this part of our 
nature, and in every way to beat down that brutal spirit 
which is the Genius of War. In making this appeal, he 
will be startled as he learns, that, while the municipal 
law of each Christian nation, discarding the Arbitra- 
ment of Force, provides a judicial tribunal for the 
determination of controversies between individuals, In- 
ternational Law expressly establishes the Arbitrament of 
War for the determination of controversies between 
nations. 

Here, then, in unfolding the True Grandeur of ISTa- 
tions, we encounter a practice, or custorn, sanctioned by 
the Law of Nations, and constituting a part of that law, 
which exists in defiance of principles such as no indi- 
viduals can disown. If it is wrong and inglorious when 
individuals consent and agree to determine their petty 



14 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

controversies by combat, it must be equally wrong and 
inglorious when nations consent and agree to determine 
their vaster controversies by combat. Here is a positive, 
precise, and specific evil, of gigantic proportions, incon- 
sistent with what is truly honorable, making within the 
sphere of its influence all true grandeur impossible, 
which, instead of proceeding from some uncontrollable 
impulse of our nature, is exjpressly established and organ- 
ized hy law. 

As all citizens are parties to Municipal Law, and re- 
sponsible for its institutions, so are all the Christian 
nations parties to International Law, and responsible for 
its provisions. By recognizing these provisions, nations 
consent and agree beforehand to the Arbitrament of War, 
precisely as citizens, by recognizing Trial by Jury, con- 
sent and agree beforehand to the latter tribunal. As, to 
comprehend the true nature of Trial by Jury, we first 
repair to the Municipal Law by which it is established, 
so, to comprehend the true nature of the Arbitrament 
of War, we must first repair to the Law of Nations. 

Writers of genius and learning have defined this ar- 
bitrament, and laid down the rules by which it is gov- 
erned, constituting a complex code, with innumerable 
subtile provisions regulating the resort to it and the 
manner in which it must be conducted, called the 
Laws of War. In these quarters we catch our first au- 
thentic glimpses of its folly and wickedness. Accord- 
ing to Lord Bacon, whose authority is always great, 
" Wars are no massacres and confusions, but they are 
the highest Trials of Bight, when princes and states, that 
acknowledge no superior upon earth, shall put them- 
selves upon the justice of God for the deciding of their 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 15 

controversies by such success as it shall please him to 
give on either side." ^ This definition of the English 
philosopher is adopted by the American jurist. Chancel- 
lor Kent, in his Commentaries on American Law.^ The 
Swiss publicist, Vattel, whose work is accepted as an 
important repository of the Law of Nations, defines 
War as "that state in which a nation prosecutes its 
right hy forced ^ In tliis he very nearly follows the 
eminent Dutch authority, Bynkershoek, who says, " Bel- 
lum est eorum, qui suae potestatis sunt, juris sui per- 
sequendi ergo, concertatio per vim vel doliim." ^ Mr. 
Whewell, who has done so much to illustrate pliiloso- 
phy in all its departments, says, in his recent work on 
the Elements of Morality and Polity, " Though war is 
appealed to, because there is no other ultiiviate tribu- 
nal to which states can have recourse, it is aj^pealed to 
for justice.'" ^ And in our country, Dr. Lieber says, in 
a work of learning and sagacious thought, that war is 
undertaken " in order to obtain right," ^ — a definition 
which hardly differs in form from those of Vattel and 
Eynkershoek. 

In accordance with these texts, I would now define 
the eyjl which I arraign. War is a public armed contest 
ietween nations, under the sanction of International Law, 
to establish justice between them : as, for instance, to de- 
termine a disputed boundary, the title to territory^, or a 
claim for damages. 

This definition is confined to contests between nations. 

1 Observations upon a Libel, etc., Works, Vol. EI. p. 40. 

2 Lecture IE., Vol. I. p. 45. 
8 Book III. ch. 1, sec. 1. 

* Qufest. Jur. Pub., Lib. I. cap. 1. 

6 Book VI. ch. 2. art. 1146. 

6 Political Ethics, Book VII. sec. 19, Vol. 11. p. 643. 



16 THE TRUE GRAJJfDEUR OF NATIONS. 

It is restricted to International War, carefully excluding 
the question, often agitated, concerning the right of 
revolution, and that other question, on which friends 
of peace sometimes differ, the right of personal self- 
defence. It does not in any way throw doubt on the 
employment of force in the administration of justice 
or the conservation of domestic quiet. 
,, It is true that the term defensive is always applied 
to wars in our day. And it is creditable to the moral 
sense that nations are constrained to allege this seem- 
ing excuse, although its absurdity is apparent in the 
equal pretensions of the two belligerents, each claim- 
ing to act on the defensive. It is unreasonable to sup- 
pose that war can arise in the present age, under the 
sanctions of International Law, except to determine an 
asserted right. Whatever its character in periods of 
barbarism, or when invoked to repel an incursion of 
robbers or pirates, " enemies of the human race," war 
becomes in our day, among all the nations parties to ex- 
isting International Law, simply a mode of litigation, 
or of deciding a lis pendens. It is a mere trial of 
RIGHT, an appeal for justice to force. The wars now 
lowering from Mexico and England are of this char- 
acter. On the one side, we assert a title to Texas, 
which is disputed; on the other, we assert a title to 
Oregon, which is disputed. Only according to " mar- 
tial logic," or the " flash language " of a dishonest 
patriotism, can the Ordeal by Battle be regarded in 
these causes, on either side, as Defensive War. Nor 
did the threatened war with France in 1834 prom- 
ise to assume any different character. Its professed 
object was to obtain the payment of five million dol- 
lars, — in other words, to determine by this Ultimate 



THE TKUE GKANDEUK OF NATIONS. 17 

Tribunal a simple question of justice. And going back 
still farther in our history, the avowed purpose of the 
■war aeainst Great Britain in 1812 was to obtain from 

O 

the latter power an abandonment of the claim to search 
American vessels. Um-ighteous as was this claim, it 
is plain that war here was invoked only as a Trial of 
Right. 

It forms no part of my purpose to consider individ- 
ual wars in the past, except so far as necessary by way 
of example. My aim is higher. I wish to expose an 
irrational, cruel, and impious custom, sanctioned by the 
Law of Nations. On this account I resort to that 
supreme law for the definition on which I plant my- 
self in the effort I now make. 

After considering, in succession, first, the character 
of war, secondly, the miseries it produces, and, thirdly, 
its utter and pitiful insufficiency, as a mode of de- 
termining justice, we shall be able to decide, strictly 
and logically, whether it must not be ranked as crime, 
from which no true honor can spring to individuals or 
nations. To appreciate this evil, and the necessity for 
its overthrow, it will be our duty, fourthly, to consider 
in succession the various prejudices by which it is sus- 
tained, ending with that prejudice, so gigantic and all- 
embracing, at whose command uncounted sums are 
madly diverted from purposes of peace to preparations 
for war. The whole subject is infinitely practical, 
while the concluding division shows how the public 
treasury may be relieved, and new means secured for 
human advancement. 



18 THE TEUE GRA2JDEUK OF NATIONS. 



I. 

First, as to the essential character and root of war, 
or that part of our nature whence it proceeds. Listen 
to the voice from the ancient poet of Boeotian Ascra : — 

" This is the law for mortals, ordained by the Ruler of Heaven: 
Fishes and beasts and birds of the air devour each other; 
Justice dwells not among them : only to man has he given 
Justice the Highest and Best.''^ ^ 

These words of old Hesiod exhibit the distinction be- 
tween man and beast; but this very distinction be- 
longs to the present discussion. The idea rises to the 
mind at once, that war is a resort to brute force, where 
nations strive to overpower each other. Eeason, and 
the divine part of our nature, where alone we differ 
from the beast, where alone we approach the Divinity, 
where alone are the elements of that justice which is 
the professed object of war, are rudely dethroned. For 
the time men adopt the nature of beasts, emulating 
their ferocity, like them rejoicing in blood, and with 
lion's paw clutching an asserted right. Though in more 
recent days this character is somewhat disguised by 
the skill and knowledge employed, war is still the same, 
only more destructive from the genius and intellect 
which have become its servants. The primitive poets, 
in the unconscious simphcity of the world's childhood, 
make this boldly apparent. The heroes of Homer are 
likened to animals in ungovernable fury, or to things 
devoid of reason or affection. Menelaus presses his 

1 Hesiod, Works and Days, w. 276-279. Cicero also says, " Neque ulla 
re longius absumus a natura ferarum, in quibus inesse fortitudinem ssepe 
dicimus, ut in equis, in leonibus; justitiam, sequitatem, bonitatem non 
dicimus." — De Offic, Lib. I. cap. 16. 



THE TEUE GEANDEUR OF NATIONS. 19 

way through the crowd " like a wild beast." Sarpedon 
is aroused against the Argives, "as a lion against the 
crooked-horned oxen," and afterwards rushes forward 
"like a lion nurtured on the mountains, for a long 
time famished for want of flesh, but whose courage' 
impels him to attack even the well-guarded sheep- 
fold." In one and the same passage, the great Tela- 
monian Ajax is " wild beast," " tawny lion," and " dull 
ass " ; and all the Greek chiefs, the flower of the camp, 
are ranged about Diomed, " like raw-eating lions, or wild- 
boars, whose strength is irresistible." Even Hector, the 
model hero, with all the virtues of war, is praised as 
" tamer of horses " ; and one of his renowned feats in 
battle, indicating brute strength only, is where he takes 
up and hurls a stone which two of our strongest men 
could not easily lift into a wagon ; and he drives over 
dead bodies and shields, while the axle is defiled by 
gore, and the guard about the seat is sprinkled from the 
horses' hoofs and the tires of the wheels ; ^ and in that 
most admired passage of ancient literature, before re- 
turning his child, the yoimg Astyanax, to the arms of 
the wife he is about to leave, this hero of war invokes 
the gods for a single blessing on the boy's head, — " that 
he may excel his father, and bring home Uoody spoils, 
his enemy being slain, and so make glad the heart of his 
mother ! " 

From early fields of modern literature, as from those 
of antiquity, might be gathered similar illustrations, 
showing the unconscious degradation of the soldier, in 
vain pursuit of justice, renouncing the human character, 

1 Little better than Trojan Hector was the " great" Cond^ ranging over 
the field and exulting in the blood of the enemy, which defiled his sword- 
arm to the elbow. — Mahon, Essai sur la Vie du Grand Cond^, p. 60. 



20 THE TKUE GKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

to assume that of brute. Bayard, the exemplar of chiv- 
aby, with a name always on the Hps of its votaries, 
was described by the qualities of beasts, being, accord- 
ing to his admirers, ram in attack, wild-hoar in defence, 
and wolfinfiight. Henry the Fifth, as represented by 
our own Shakespeare, iu the spirit-stirring appeal to his 
troops exclaims, — 

" When the blast of war blows in our ears, 
Thenimitate the action of the tiger." 

This is plain and frank, reveaUng the true character of 
war. 

I need not dwell on the moral debasement that must 
ensue. Passions, like so many .bloodhounds, are un- 
leashed and suffered to rage. Crimes filling our pris- 
ons stalk abroad in the soldier's garb, unwhipped of 
justice. Murder, robbery, rape, arson, are the sports 
of this fiendish Saturnalia, when 

" The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, 
And the fleshed soldier, rough and hard of heart, 
In liberty of bloody hand shall range 
With conscience wide as hell." 

By a bold, but truthful touch, Shakespeare thus pic- 
tures the foul disfigurement which war produces in man, 
whose native capacities he describes in those beautiful 
words : " How noble in reason ! how infinite in faculties ! 
in form and moving how express and admirable ! in ac- 
tion how like an angel ! in apprehension how like a 
god ! " And yet this nobility of reason, this infinitude 
of faculties, this marvel of form and motion, this nature 
so angelic, so godlike, are all, under the transforming 
power of War, lost in the action of the beast, or the 
license of the fleshed soldier with bloody hand and 
conscience wide as hell. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 21 



11. 



The immediate effect of war is to sever all relations 
of friendship and commerce between the belligerent na- 
tions, and every individual thereof, impressing upon each 
citizen or subject the character of enemy. Imagine this 
instant change between England and the United States. 
The innumerable ships of the two countries, the white 
doves of commerce, bearing the ohve of peace, are 
driven from the sea, or turned from peaceful purposes 
to be ministers of destruction; the tlu-eads of social 
and business intercourse, so carefully woven into a 
thick web, are suddenly snapped asunder ; friend can 
no longer communicate with friend ; the twenty thou- 
sand letters speeded each fortnight from this port alone 
are arrested, and the human affections, of which they 
are the precious expression, seek in vain for utterance. 
Tell me, you with friends and kindred abroad, or you 
bound to other lands only by relations of commerce, are 
you ready for this rude separation ? 

This is little compared with what must follow. It is 
but the first portentous shadow of disastrous eclipse, 
twihght usher of thick darkness, covering the whole 
heavens with a pall, broken only by the lightnings of 
battle and siege. 

Such horrors redden the historic page, while, to the 
scandal of humanity, they never want historians with 
feehngs kindred to those by which they are inspired. 
The demon that draws the sword also guides the pen. 
The favorite chronicler of modern Europe, Froissart, dis- 
covers his sympathies in his Prologue, where, with 



22 THE TRUE GRANDEUE OF NATIONS. 

something of apostlesliip, he announces his purpose, 
"that the honorable enterprises and noble adventures 
and feats of arms wliich happened in the wars of France 
and England be notably registered and put in perpetual 
memory," and then proceeds to bestow his equal admi- 
ration upon bravery and cunning, upon the courtesy 
which pardoned as upon the rage which caused the flow 
of blood in torrents, dwelling with especial delight on 
" beautiful incursions, beautiful rescues, beautiful feats 
of arms, and beautiful prowesses " ; and wantoning in 
pictures of cities assaulted, " which, being soon gained 
by force, were robbed, and men and women and children 
put to the sword without mercy, while the churches were 
burnt and violated."-^ This was in a barbarous age. 
But popular writers in our own day, dazzled by false 
ideas of greatness, at which, reason and humanity 
blush, do not hesitate to dwell on similar scenes even 
with rapture and eulogy. The humane soul of Wilber- 
force, which sighed that England's " bloody laws sent 
many unprepared into another world," could hail the 
slaughter of Waterloo, by which thousands were hurried 
into eternity on the Sabbath he held so holy, as a 
" splendid victory." ^ 

My present purpose is less to judge the historian than 
to expose the horrors on horrors which he applauds. 
At Tarragona, above six thousand human beings, almost 
all defenceless, men and women, gray hairs and infant 
innocence, attractive youth and wrinkled age, were 
butchered by the infuriate troops in one night, and the 
morning sun rose upon a city whose streets and houses 

1 Froissart, Les Ohroniques, Ch. 177, 179, Collection de Buchon, Tom. II. 
pp. 87, 92. 

2 Life of William Wilberforce, by his Sons, Ch. 30, Vol. IV. pp. 256, 261. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 23 

•were inundated with blood: and yet this is called a 
"glorious exploit." ^ Here was a conquest by the 
French. At a later day, Ciudad Eodrigo was stormed by 
the British, when, in the license of victory, there ensued 
a savage scene of plunder and violence, while shouts 
and screams on all sides mingled fearfully with the 
groans of the wounded. Churches were desecrated, cel- 
lars of wine and spirits were pillaged, fire was wantonly 
applied to the city, and brutal intoxication spread in 
every direction. Only when the drunken dropped from 
excess, or fell asleep, was any degree of order restored : 
and yet the storming of Ciudad Eodrigo is pronoimced 
" one of the most brilliant exploits of the British army." * 
This "beautiful feat of arms" was followed by the 
storming of Badajoz, where the same scenes were en- 
acted again, with accumulated atrocities. The story shall 
be told in the words of a partial historian, who himself 
saw what he eloquently describes. " Shameless rapacity, 
brutal intemperance, savage lust, cruelty, and murder, 
shrieks and piteous lamentations, groans, shouts, impre- 
cations, the hissing of fires bursting from the houses, the 
crashing of doors and windows, and the reports of mus- 
kets used in violence, resounded for two days and nights 
in the streets of Badajoz. On the third, when the city 
was sacked, when the soldiers were exhausted by their 
ovm. excesses, the tumult rather subsided than was 
quelled. The wounded men were then looked to, the 
dead disposed of." ^ All this is in the nature of confes- 
sion, for the historian is a partisan of battle. 

The same terrible war affords another instance of 
atrocities at a siege crying to Heaven. For weeks be- 

1 Alison, Hist, of Europe, Ch. 61, Vol. VHI. p. 237. 

2 Ibid., Ch. 64, Vol. VIII. p. 482. 

8 Napier, Hist. Peninsular War, Book XVI. ch. 5, Vol. IV. p. 431. 



24 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

fore the surrender of Saragossa, the deaths daily were 
from four to five hundred ; and as the living could not 
bury the increasing mass, thousands of carcasses, scat- 
tered in streets and court-yards, or piled in heaps at the 
doors of churches, were left to dissolve in then' own 
corruption, or be licked up by the flames of burning 
houses. The city was shaken to its foundations by six- 
teen thousand shells, and the explosion of forty-five 
thousand pounds of powder in the mines, — while the 
bones of forty thousand victims, of every age and both 
sexes, bore dreadful testimony to the unutterable cruelty 
of War.i 

These might seem pictures from the life of Alaric, 
who led the Goths to Kome, or of Attila, general of 
the Huns, called the Scourge of God, and who boasted 
that the grass did not grow where his horse had set 
his foot ; but no ! they belong to our own times. They 
are portions of the wonderful, but wicked, career of 
him who stands forth the foremost representative of 
worldly grandeur. The heart aches, as we follow him 
and his marshals from field to field of Satanic glory ,2 
finding everywhere, from Spain to Eussia, the same 
carnival of woe. The picture is various, yet the same. 
Suffering, woimds, and death, in every form, fill the 
terrible canvas. What scene more dismal than that 
of Albuera, with its horrid piles of corpses, while all 
night the rain pours down, and river, hill, and forest, 

1 Napier, Book V. ch. 3, Vol. II. p. 46. 

2 A living poet of Italy, who will be placed by his prose among the great 
names of his country's literature, in a remarkable ode which he has thrown 
on the urn of Napoleon invites posterity to judge whether his career of 
battle was True Glory. 

" Fu vera gloria ? Ai posteri 
L' ardua sentenza." — Manzont, II Cinque Maggio. 
When men learn to appreciate moral grandeur, the easy sentence will be 
rendered. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 25 

on each side, resound with the cries and groans of the 
dying ? ^ Wliat scene more awfully monumental than 
Salamanca, where, long after the great battle, the 
ground, strewn with fragments of casques and cui- 
rasses, was still white with the skeletons of those who 
fell ? ^ What catalogue of horrors more complete than 
the Eussian campaign ? At every step is war, and 
this is enough : soldiers black with powder ; bayonets 
bent with the violence of the encounter; the earth 
ploughed with cannon-shot .; trees torn and mutilated j 
the dead and dying; wounds and agony; fields cov- 
ered with broken carriages, outstretched horses, and 
mangled bodies ; while disease, sad attendant on mili- 
tary suffering, sweeps thousands from the great hos- 
pitals, and the multitude of amputated limbs, which 
there is no time to destroy, accumulate in bloody heaps, 
filling the air with corruption. What tongue, what pen, 
can describe the bloody havoc at Borodino, where, 
between rise and set of a single sun, one hundred 
thousand of our fellow-men, equalling in number the 
whole population of this city, sank to earth, dead or 
wounded ? ^ Fifty days after the battle, no less than 
thirty thousand are foimd stretched where their last 
convulsions ended, and the whole plain is strewn with 
haK-buried carcasses of men and horses, intermingled 
with garments dyed in blood, and bones gnawed by 
dogs and vultures.* Who can follow the French army 
in dismal retreat, avoiding the spear of the pursuing 
Cossack only to sink beneath the sharper frost and ice, 

1 Napier, Book XU. ch. 7, Vol. III. p. 543. 

2 Alison, Ch. 64, Vol. VIII. p. 589. 
8 Ibid., Ch. 67, Vol. VIII. p. 871. 

4 Ibid., Ch. 68, Vol. VIII. p. 930. S^gur, Hist, de Napoleon, Liv. IX. ch. 7, 
Tom. II. p. 153. Labaume, Eel. de ]a Campagne de Russie, Liv. VII. 



26 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

in a temperature below zero, on foot, without shelter for 
the body, famishing on horse-flesh and a miserable com- 
pound of rye and snow-water ? With a fresh array, the 
war is upheld against new forces under the walls of 
Dresden ; and as the Emperor rides over the field of 
)3attle — after indulging the night before in royal 
supper with the Saxon king — he sees ghastly new- 
made graves, with hands and arms projecting, stark 
and stiff, above the ground; and shortly afterwards, 
when shelter is needed for the troops, the order to 
occupy the Hospitals for the Insane is given, with the 
words, " Turn out the mad." ^ 

Here I might close this scene of blood. But there 
is one other picture of the atrocious, though natural, 
consequences of war, occurring almost within our own 
day, that I would not omit. Let me bring to your 
mind Genoa, called the Superb, City of Palaces, dear 
to the memory of American childhood as the birth- 
place of Christopher Columbus, and one of the spots 
first enlightened by the morning beams of civilization, 
whose merchants were princes, and whose rich argosies, 
in those early days, introduced to Europe the choicest 
products of the East, the linen of Egypt, the spices of 
Arabia, and the silks of Samarcand. She still sits in 
queenly pride, as she sat then, — her mural crown stud- 
ded with towers, — her churches rich with marble floors 
and rarest pictures, — her palaces of ancient doges and 
admirals yet spared by the hand of Time, — her close 
streets thronged by a hundred thousand inhabitants, 
— at the foot of the Apennines, as they approach 
the blue and tideless waters of the Mediterranean Sea, 

1 Alison, Oh. 72, Vol. IX. pp. 469, 553. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 27 

— leaning her back against their strong mountain-sides, 
overshadowed by the foliage of the fig-tree and the 
olive, while the orange and the lemon with pleasant 
perfume scent the air where reigns perpetual spring. 
"Who can contemplate such a city without dehght ? Who 
can listen to the story of her sorrows without a pang ? 

At the opening of the present century, the armies of 
the French Eepublic, after dominating over Italy, were 
driven from their conquests, and compelled, with 
shrunken forces, to find shelter under Massena, within 
the walls of Genoa. Various efforts were made by the 
Austrian general, aided by bombardment from the Brit- 
ish fleet, to force the strong defences by assault. At 
length the city was invested by a strict blockade. All 
communication with the country was cut off, while the 
harbor was closed by the ever- wakeful British watch- 
dogs of war. Besides the French troops, within the 
beleaguered and unfortunate city are the peaceful, un- 
offending inhabitants. Provisions soon become scarce ; 
scarcity sharpens into want, till fell Famine, bringing 
blindness and madness in her train, rages like an Erin- 
nys. Picture to yourselves this large population, not 
pouring out their lives in the exulting rush of battle, 
but wasting at noonday, daughter by the side of moth- 
er, husband by the side of wife. Wlien grain and 
rice fail, flaxseed, millet, cocoa, and almonds are ground 
by hand-mills into flour, and even bran, baked with 
honey, is eaten, less to satisfy than to deaden hunger. 
Before the last extremities, a pound of horse-flesh is 
sold for thirty-two cents, a pound of bran for thirty 
cents, a pound of flour for one dollar and seventy-five 
cents. A single bean is soon sold for two cents, and 
a biscuit of three ounces for two dollars and a quarter. 



28 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

till finally none can be had at any price. The wretch- 
ed soldiers, after devouring the horses, are reduced to 
the degradation of feeding on dogs, cats, rats, and 
worms, which are eagerly hunted in cellars and 
sewers. "Happy were now," exclaims an Italian 
historian, " not those who lived, but those who died ! " 
The day is dreary from hunger, — the night more 
dreary still, from hunger with delirious fancies. They 
now turn to herbs, — dock, sorrel, mallows, wild 
succory. People of every condition, with women of 
noble birth and beauty, seek upon the slope of the 
mountain within the defences those aliments which 
Nature designed solely for beasts. Scanty vegetables, 
with a scrap of cheese, are all that can be afforded to 
the sick and wounded, those sacred stipendiaries of 
human charity. In the last anguish of despair, men 
and women fill the air with groans and shrieks, some 
in spasms, convulsions, and contortions, yielding their 
expiring breath on the unpitying stones of the street, — 
alas ! not more unpitying than man. Children, whom 
a dead mother's arms had ceased to protect, orphans 
of an hour, with piercing cries, supplicate in vain 
the compassion of the passing stranger : none pity or 
aid. The sweet fountains of sympathy are all closed 
by the selfishness of individual distress. In the gen- 
eml agony, some precipitate themselves into the sea, 
while the more impetuous rush from the gates, and 
impale their bodies on the Austrian bayonets. Oth- 
ers still are driven to devour their shoes and the 
leather of their pouches ; and the horror of human flesli 
so far abates, that numbers feed like cannibals on the 
corpses about them.^ 

1 This account is drawn from the animated sketches of Botta (Storia 



THE TEUE GKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 29 

At this stage the French general capitulated, claiming 
and receiving what are called " the honors of war," — 
but not before twenty thousand innocent persons, old 
and young, women and children, having no part or in- 
terest in the contest, had died the most horrible of 
deaths. The Austrian flag floated over captured Genoa 
but a brief span of time ; for Bonaparte had already 
descended like an eagle from the Alps, and in nine days 
afterwards, on the plains of Marengo, shattered the 
Austrian empire in Italy. 

But wasted lands, famished cities, and slaughtered 
armies are not all that is contained in " the purple tes- 
tament of bleeding war." Every soldier is connected 
■with others, as all of you, by dear ties of kindred, love, 
and friendship. He has been sternly summoned from 
the embrace of family. To him there is perhaps an 
aged mother, who fondly hoped to lean her bend- 
ing years on his more youthful form ; perhaps a wife, 
whose life is just entwined inseparably with his, now 
condemned to wasting despair ; perhaps sisters, brothers. 
As he falls on the field of war, must not all these rush 
with liis blood ? But who can measure the distress that 

d' Italia dal 1789 al 1814, Tom. HI. Lib. 19), Alison (History of Europe, 
Vol. IV. ch. 30), and Arnold (Modem History, Lect. IV.). The humanity 
of the last is particularly aroused to condemn this most atrocious murder of 
innocent people, and, as a sufficient remedy, he suggests a modification of 
the Laws of War, permitting non-combatants to withdraw from a block- 
aded town ! In this way, indeed, they may be spared a languishing death by 
starvation ; but they must desert firesides, pursuits, all that makes life dear, 
and become homeless exiles, — a fate little better than the former. It is 
strange that Arnold's pure soul and clear judgment did not recognize the 
truth, that the whole custom of war is unrighteous and unlawful, and that 
the horrors of this siege are its natural consequence. Laws of War! Laws 
in what is lawless! rules of wrong! There can be only one Lain of War, — 
that is, the great law which pronounces it unwise, unjust, and unchristian. 



30 THE TRUE GRANDEUE OF NATIONS. 

radiates as from a bloody sun, penetrating innumerable 
homes ? Who can give the gauge and dimensions of 
this infinite sorrow ? Tell me, ye who feel the bitter- 
ness of parting with dear friends and kindred, whom you 
watch tenderly till the last golden sands are run out and 
the great hour-glass is turned, what is the measure of 
your anguish ? Your friend departs, soothed by kind- 
ness and in the arms of Love : the soldier gasps out his 
life with no friend near, while the scowl of Hate dark- 
ens all that he beholds, darkens his own departing soul. 
Who can forget the anguish that fills the bosom and 
crazes the brain of Lenore, in the matchless ballad of 
Biirger, when seeking in vain among returning squad- 
rons for her lover left dead on Prague's ensanguined 
plain ? But every field of blood has many Lenores. Ali 
war is full of desolate homes, as is vividly pictured by 
a master poet of antiquity, whose verse is an argument. 

" But through the bounds of Grecia's land, 
Who sent her sons for Troy to part, 
See mourning, with much sufiering heart, 
On each man's threshold stand. 
On each sad hearth in Grecia's land. 
Well may her soiil with grief be rent; 
She well remembers whom she sent, 
She sees them not return : 
Instead of men, to each man's home 
Urns and ashes only come. 
And the armor which they wore, — 
Sad relics to their native shore. 
For Mars, the barterer of the lifeless clay, 
Who sells for gold the slain. 
And holds the scale, in battle's doubtful day, 
Sigh balanced o'er the plain, 
From Ilium's walls for men returns 
Ashes and sepulchral urns, — 
Ashes wet with many a tear. 
Sad relics of the fiery bier. 
Round the full urns the general groan 
Goes, as each their kindred own: 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 31 

One they mourn in battle strong, 
And one that 'mid the armed throng 
He sunk in glory's slaughtering tide, 
And for another's consort died. 

Others they mourn whose monuments stand 
By Ilium's walls on foreign strand; 
Where they fell in beauty's bloom, 
There they lie in hated tomb, 
Sunk beneath the massy mound, 
In eternal chambers bound." i 



III. 



But all these miseries are to no purpose. "War is 
utterly ineffectual to secure or advance its professed 
object. The wretchedness it entails contributes to no 
end, helps to establish no right, and therefore in no re- 
spect determines justice between the contending nations. 

The fruitlessness and vanity of war appear in the 
great conflicts by which the world has been lacerated. 
After long struggle, where each nation inflicts and re- 
ceives incalculable injury, peace is gladly obtained on 
the basis of the condition before the war, known as the 
status ante helium. I cannot illustrate this futility bet- 
ter than by the familiar example — humiliating to both 
countries — of our last war with Great Britain, where 
the professed object was to obtain a renunciation of 
the British claim, so defiantly asserted, to impress our 
seamen. To overturn this injustice the Arbitrament 
of War was invoked, and for nearly three years the 
whole country was under its terrible ban. Ameri- 
can commerce was driven from the seas ; the re- 

1 Agamemnon of ^schylus: Chorus. This is from the beautiful transla- 
tion by John Symmons. 



32 THE TRUE GKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

sources of the land were drained by taxation ; villages 
on the Canadian frontier were laid in ashes ; the me- 
tropolis of the Eepiiblic was captured ; while distress 
was everywhere within our borders. Weary at last 
with this rude trial, the National Government appointed 
commissioners to treat for peace, with these specific in- 
structions : " Your first duty will be to conclude a peace 
with Great Britain ; and you are authorized to do it, in 
case you obtain a satisfactory stipulation against im- 
pressment, one which shall secure under our flag protec- 
tion to the crew If this encroachment of Great 

Britain is not provided against, the United States have 
appealed to arms in vain." ^ Afterwards, finding small 
chance of extorting from Great Britain a reUnquishment 
of the unrighteous claim, and foreseeing from the invet- 
erate prosecution of the war only an accumulation of 
calamities, the National Government directed the nego- 
tiators, in concluding a treaty, to " omit any stipulation 
on the subject of impress7ncnt." ^ These instructions were 
obeyed, and the treaty that restored to us once more 
the blessings of peace, so rashly cast away, but now 
hailed with intoxication of joy, contained no allusion 
to impressment, nor did it provide for the surrender 
of a single American sailor detained in the British 
navy. Thus, by the confession of our own Govern- 
ment, "the United States had appealed to arms IN 
VAIN." 3 These important words are not mine; they 
are words of the country. 

1 Mr. Monroe to Commissioners, April 15, 1813: American State Papers, 
Vol. Vm. pp. 577, 578. 

a Mr. Monroe to Commissioners, June 27, 1814 : Ibid., Vol. Vm. p. 593. 

3 Mr. Jefferson, in more than one letter, declares the peace an armistice 
only, " because no seciirity is provided against the impressment of our 
seamen." — Letter to Crawford, Feb. 11, 1815; to Lafayette, Feb. 14, 1815: 
Works, Vol. VI. pp. 420, 427. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 33 

All tliis is the natural result of an appeal to war for 
the determination of justice. Justice implies the exer- 
cise of the judgment. Now war not only supersedes 
the judgment, but delivers over the pending question to 
superiority of force, or to chance. 

Superior force may end in conquest ; this is the nat- 
ural consequence ; but it cannot adjudicate any right. 
We expose the absurdity of its arbitrament, when, by a 
familiar phrase of sarcasm, we deride the right of the 
strongest, — excluding, of course, all idea of right, ex- 
cept that of the lion as he springs upon a weaker beast, 
of the wolf as he tears in pieces the lamb, of the vul- 
ture as he devours the dove. The grossest spirits must 
admit that this is not justice. 

But the battle is not always to the strong. Superior- 
ity of force is often checked by the proverbial contin- 
gencies of war. Especially are such contingencies re- 
vealed in rankest absurdity, where nations, as is the 
acknowledged custom, without regard to their respective 
forces, whether weaker or stronger, voluntarily appeal 
to this mad umpirage. Who beforehand can measure 
the currents of the heady fight ? In common language, 
we confess the " chances " of battle ; and soldiers devoted 
to this harsh vocation yet call it a " game." The Great 
Captain of our age, who seemed to drag victory at his 
chariot-wheels, in a formal address to his ofiicers, on 
entering Eussia, says, "In war, fortune has an equal 
share with ability in success." ^ The famous victory of 
Marengo, accident of an accident, wrested unexpectedly 
at close of day from a foe at an earlier hour success- 
ful, taught him the uncertainty of war. Afterwards, 
in bitterness of spirit, when his immense forces were 

1 Alison, Ch. 67, Vol. VIII. p. 815. 
VOL. I. — 3 



34 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

shivered, and his triumphant eagles driven back with 
broken wing, he exclaimed, in that remarkable con- 
versation recorded by his secretary, Fain, — " Well, this 
is War ! High in the morning, — low enough at night ! 
From a triumph to a fall is often but a step." ^ The 
same sentiment is repeated by the military historian of 
the Peninsxilar campaigns, when he says, " Fortune al- 
ways asserts her supremacy in war; and often from 
a slight mistake such disastrous consequences flow, 
that, in every age and every nation, the uncertainty 
of arms has been proverbial." ^ And again, in another 
place, considering the conduct of Wellington, the same 
military historian, who is an unquestionable authority, 
confesses, "A few hours' delay, an accident, a turn of 
fortune, and he would have been foiled. Ay ! but this 
is War, always dangerous and uncertain, an ever-rolling 
wheel, and armed with scythes." ^ And will intelligent 
man look for justice to an ever-rolling wheel armed 
with sc3rthes ? 

Chance is written on every battle-field. Discerned 
less in the conflict of large masses than in that of in- 
dividuals, it is equally present in both. How capri- 
ciously the wheel turned when the fortunes of Eome 
were staked on the combat between the Horatii and 
Curiatii ! — and who, at one time, augured that the 
single Horatius, with two slain brothers on the field, 
would overpower the three living enemies ? But this 
is not alone. In all the combats of history, involving 
the fate of individuals or nations, we learn to revolt at 
the frenzy which carries questions of property, freedom, 
or life to a judgment so uncertain and senseless. The 
humorous poet fitly exposes its hazards, when he says, — 

1 Alison, Ch. 72, Vol. IX. p. 497. 

2 Napier, Book XXIV. ch. 6, Vol. VI. p. 687. 
8 Ibid., Book XVI. ch. 7, Vol. IV. p. 476. 



THE TRUE GKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 35 

" that a turnstile is more certain 
Than, in events of war, Dame Fortune." i 

Dviring the early modern centuries, and especially in 
tlie moral night of the Dark Ages, the practice prevailed 
extensively throughout Europe of invoking this adju- 
dication for controversies, whether of individuals or 
communities. I do not dwell on the custom of Private 
War, though it aptly illustrates the subject, stopping 
merely to echo that joy which, in a time of igno- 
rance, before this arbitrament yielded gradually to the 
ordinances of monarchs and an advancing civiliza- 
tion, hailed its temporary suspension as The Truce of 
God. But this beautiful term, most suggestive, and his- 
torically important, cannot pass without the attention 
which belongs to it. Such a truce is still an example, 
and also an argument ; but it is for nations. Here is 
something to be imitated ; and here also is an appeal to 
the reason. If individuals or communities once rec- 
ognized the Truce of God, why not again ? And why 
may not its benediction descend upon nations also ? Its 
origin goes back to the darkest night. It was in 1032 
that the Bishop of Aquitaine announced the appear- 
ance of an angel with a message from Heaven, engag- 
ing men to cease from war and be reconciled. The 
people, already softened by calamity and disposed to 
supernatural impressions, hearkened to the sublime mes- 
sage, and consented. From sunset Thursday to sunrise 
Monday each week, also during Advent and Lent, and 
at the great festivals, aU effusion of blood was inter- 
dicted, and no man could molest his adversary. "Women, 
children, travellers, merchants, laborers, were assured 
perpetual peace. Every church was made an asylum, 

1 Hudibras, Part I. Canto 3, w. 23, 24. 



36 THE TRUE GEANDEUE OF NATIONS;- 

and, by happy association, the plough also sheltered 
from peril all who came to it. This respite, justly 
resarded as marvellous, was hailed as the Truce of G-od. 
Beginning in one neighborhood, it was piously extended 
untn it embraced the whole kingdom, and then, by the 
authority of the Pope, became coextensive with Chris- 
tendom, while those who violated it were put under 
solemn ban. As these things passed, bishops lifted their 
crosses, and the people in their gladness cried. Peace ! 
Peace. ! ^ Originally too limited in operation and too 
short in duration, the Truce of God must again be pro- 
claimed for all places and all times, — proclaimed to all 
mankind and all nations, without distinction of person 
or calling, on aU days of the week, without distinction 
of sacred days or festivals, and with one universal 
asylum, not merely the church and the plough, but 
every place and thing. 

From Private Wars, whose best lesson is the Truce of 
God, by which for a time they were hushed, I come to 
the Judicial Combat, or Trial by Battle, where, as in a 
mirror, we behold the barbarism of War, without trace 
of any kind. Trial by Battle was a formal and legiti- 
mate mode of deciding controversies, principally be- 
tween individuals. Like other ordeals, by walking 
barefoot and blindfold among burning ploughshares, 
by holding hot iron, by dipping the hand in hot water 
or hot on, and like the great Ordeal of War, it was 
a presumptuous appeal to Providence, under the ap- 
prehension and hope that Heaven would give the vic- 
tory to him who had the right. Its object was the 

1 Robertson, Hist, of Charles V., Vol. I. note 21. Semichon, La Paix et 
la Treve de Dieu, Tom. H. pp. 35, 53. 



THE TRUE GEANDEUR OF NATIONS. 37 

very object of "War, — the determination of Justice. 
It was sanctioned by Municipal Law as an arbitrament 
for individuals, as "War, to the scandal of civilization 
is still sanctioned by International Law as an arbitra- 
ment for nations. "Men," says the brilliant French- 
man, Montesquieu, "subject even their prejudices to 
rules " ; and Trial by Battle, which he does not hesitate 
to denounce as a "monstrous usage," was surrounded \)j 
artificial regulations of multifarious detail, constituting 
an extensive system, determining how and when it 
shoidd be waged, as "War is surrounded by a complex 
code, known as the Laws of War. " Nothing," says 
Montesquieu again, "could be more contrary to good 
sense, but, once established, it was executed with a cer- 
tain prudence," — which is equally true of "War. ISTo 
battle-field for an army is selected with more care than 
was the field for Trial by Battle. An open space in the 
neighborhood of a church was often reserved for this 
purpose. At the famous Abbey of Saint-Germain-des- 
Pres, in Paris, there was a tribune for the judges, over- 
looking the adjoining meadow, which served for the 
field.^ The combat was inaugurated by a solemn mass, 
according to a form still preserved, Missa pro Duello, so 
that, in ceremonial and sanction, as in the field, the 
Church was constantly present. Champions were hired, 
as soldiers now.^ 

ISTo question was too sacred, grave, or recondite for this 

1 Sismondi, Hist, des Fran9ais, Part. V. ch. 9, Tom. X. p. 514. 

2 The pivotal character of Trial by Battle, as an illustration of War, will 
justify a reference to the modern authorities, among which are Robertson, 
who treats it with perspicuity and fulness (History of Charles V., Vol. I. 
note 22), — Hallam, always instructive (Middle Ages, Vol.1. Chap. H. pt. 2), 
— Blackstone, always clear (Commentaries, Book HI. ch. 22, sec. 5, and 
Book IV. ch. 27, sec.» 3), — Montesquieu, who casts upon it a flood of 



38 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

tribunal. In France, tlie title of an Abbey to a neigh- 
boring church was decided by it ; and an Emperor of 
Germany, according to a faithful ecclesiastic, "desir- 
ous of deahng honorably with his people and nobles " 
(mark here the standard of honor !), waived the judgment 
of the court on a grave question of law concerning the 
descent of property, and referred it to champions. Hu- 
man folly did not stop here. In Spain, a subtile point 
of theology was submitted to the same determination.^ 
But Trial by Battle was not confined to particular coun- 
tries or to rare occasions. It prevailed everywhere in 
Europe, superseding in many places aU other ordeals, 
and even Trials hij Proofs, while it extended not only to 
criminal matters, but to questions of property. In Or- 
leans it had an exceptional limitation, being denied in 
civil matters where the amount did not exceed five sous.^ 
Like War in our day, its justice and fitness as an 
arbitrament were early doubted or condemned. Liut- 
prand, a king of the Lombards, during that middle period 
neither ancient nor modern, in a law bearing date A. D. 

light (Esprit des Lois, Liv. XX VIII. ch. 18-33), — Sismondi, humane and 
interesting (Histoire des Franpais, Part. IV. ch. 11, Tom. VIII. pp. 
72 - 78), — Guizot, in a work of remarkable historic beauty, more grave than 
Montesquieu, and enlightened by a better philosophy (Histoire de la Civili- 
sation en France depuis la Chute de I'Empire Romain, Tom. IV. pp. 89, 149 - 
166), — Wheaton, our learned countryman (Histoiy of the Northmen, Chap. 
III. and XII.), — also the two volumes of Millingen's History of Duelling, if 
so loose a compend deserves a place in this list. AU these, describing 
Trial by Battle, testify against War. I cannot conceal that so great an au- 
thority as Selden, a most enlightened jurist of the Long Parliament, argues 
the lawfulness of the Duel from the lawfulness of War. After setting 
forth that " a duel may be granted in some cases by the law of England," 
he asks, " But whether is this lawful? " and then answers, "■Ifyou grant 
any war lawful, I make no doubt but to convince it." (Table-Talk: Duel.) 
But if the Duel be unlawful, how then with War ? 

1 Robertson, Hist. Charles V., Vol. I. note 22. 

2 Montesquieu, Esprit des Lois, Liv. XXVIII. ch. 19. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 39 

724, declares liis distrust of it as a mode of determin- 
ing justice ; but the monarch is compelled to add, that, 
considering the custom of his Lombard people, he can- 
not forbid the iminous law. His words deserve em- 
phatic mention : " Propter consuctudinem gentis nostrce 
Lang ohar dor um legem impiam vetare nan possumus." ^ 
The appropriate epithet by which he branded Trial by- 
Battle is the important bequest of the royal Lombard to 
a distant posterity. For this the lawgiver will be cher- 
ished with grateful regard in the annals of civilization. 

This custom received another blow from Kome. In 
the latter part of the thirteenth century, Don Pedro 
of Aragon, after exchanging letters of defiance with 
Charles of Anjou, proposed a personal combat, which 
was accepted, on condition that Sicily should be the 
prize of success. Each called down upon himself all 
the vengeance of Heaven, and the last dishonor, if, at 
the appointed time, he failed to appear before the Sen- 
eschal of Aquitaine, or, in case of defeat, refused to 
consign Sicily undisturbed to the victor. Wliile they 
were preparing for the lists, the Pope, Martin the 
Fourth, protested with all his might against this new 
Trial by Battle, which staked the sovereignty of a 
kingdom, a feudatory of the Holy See, on a wild stroke 
of chance. By a papal bull, dated at Civita Vecchia, 
April 5th, 1283, he threatened excommunication to 
either of the princes who should proceed to a combat 
which he pronounced criminal and abominable. By a 
letter of the same date, the Pope announced to Edward 
the First of England, Duke of Aquitaine, the agreement 
of the two princes, which he most earnestly declared to 

1 Liutprandi Leges, Lib. VL cap. 65 : Muratori, Rerum Italic. Script., 
Tom. I. pars 2, p. 74. 



40 THE TRUE GRANDEUK OF NATIONS. 

be full of indecency and rashness, hostile to the con- 
cord of Christendom, and reckless of Christian blood; 
and he urged upon the English monarch all possible 
effort to prevent the combat, — menacing him with ex- 
communication, and his territories with interdict, if it 
should take place. Edward refusing to guaranty the 
safety of the combatants in Aquitaine, the parties re- 
tired without consummating their duel.^ The judgment 
of the Holy See, which thus accomplished its immedi- 
ate object, though not in terms directed to the suppres- 
sion of the custom, remains, nevertheless, from its peculiar 
energy, a perpetual testimony against Trial by Battle. 

To a monarch of France belongs the honor of first 
interposing the royal authority for the entire suppres- 
sion within his jurisdiction of this impious custom, so 
universally adopted, so dear to the nobility, and so pro- 
foundly rooted in the institutions of the Feudal Age. 
And here let me pause with reverence as I pronounce the 
name of St. Louis, a prince whose unenlightened errors 
may find easy condemnation in an age of larger tolera- 
tion and wider knowledge, but whose firm and upright 
soul, exalted sense of justice, fatherly regard for the 
happiness of his people, respect for the rights of others, 
conscience void of offence toward God or man, make 
him foremost among Christian rulers, and the highest 
example for Christian prince or Christian people, — in 
one word, a model of True Greatness. He was of 
angelic conscience, subjecting whatever he did to the 
single and exclusive test of moral rectitude, disregard- 
ing every consideration of worldly advantage, all fear 
of worldly consequences. 

1 Sismondi, Hist, des Fran^ais, Part. IV. ch. 15, Tom. VIII. pp. 338 - 347. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 41 

His soul, thus tremblingly sensitive to right, was 
shocked at the judicial combat. It was a sin, in his 
sight, thus to tempt God, by demanding of him a mira- 
cle, whenever judgment was pronounced. From these 
intimate convictions sprang a royal ordinance, promul- 
gated first at a Parliament assembled in 1260 : " We 
forhid to all persons throughout our dominions the Trial 
BY Battle; .... and instead of battles, we establish 
proofs ly witnesses And these battles we 

ABOLISH IN our DOMINIONS FOREVER." ^ 

Such were the restraints on the royal authority, that 
this beneficent ordinance was confined in operation to 
the demesnes of the king, not embracing those of the 
barons and feudatories. But where the power of the 
sovereign did not reach, there he labored by example, 
influence, and express intercession, — treating with the 
great vassals, and inducing many to renounce this un- 
natural usage. Thougli for years later it continued to 
vex parts of France, its overthrow commenced witji the 
Ordinance of St. Louis. 

Honor and blessings attend this truly Christian king, 
who submitted all his actions to the Heaven-descended 
sentiment of Duty, — who began a long and illustrious 
reign by renouncing and restoring conquests of his pre- 
decessor, saying to those about him, whose souls did not 
ascend to his heights, " I know that the predecessors of 
the King of England lost altogether by right the con- 
quest which I hold; and the land which I give him 
I do not give because I am bound to him or his heirs, 
hut to put love between my children and his children, v)ho 
are cousins-german ; and it seems to me that what I . 

1 Guizot, Hist, de la Civilisation en France, Le^on 14, Vol. IV. pp. 
162 - 164. 



42 THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

thus give I employ to good purpose." ^ Honor to him 
who never by force or cunning grasped what was not 
his own, — who sought no advantage from the turmoil 
and dissension of his neighbors, — who, first of Chris- 
tian princes, rebuked the Spirit of War, saying to those 
who would have him profit by the strifes of others, 
" Blessed are the peacemakers," ^ — who, by an immor- 
tal ordinance, abolished Trial by Battle throughout his 
dominions, — who extended equal justice to all, whether 
his own people or his neighbors, and in the extremity of 
his last illness, before the walls of Tunis, under a burn- 
ing African sun, among the bequests of his spirit, en- 
joined on his son and successor, " in maintaining justice, 
to be inflexible and loyal, turning neither to the right 
hand nor to the left."^ 

To condemn Trial by Battle no longer requires the 
sagacity above his age of the Lombard monarch, or 
the intrepid judgment of the Sovereign Pontiff, or the 
ecstatic soul of St. Louis. An incident of history, as 
curious as it is authentic, illustrates this point, and 
shows the certain progress of opinion ; and this brings 
me to England, where this trial was an undoubted part of 
the early Common Law, with peculiar ceremonies sanc- 
tioned by the judges robed in scarlet. The learned 
Selden, not content with tracing its origin, and exhib- 
iting its forms, with the oath of the duellist, " As God me 
help, and his saints of Paradise," shows also the copart- 
nership of the Church through its liturgy appointing 
prayers for the occasion.* For some time it was the 

1 Guizot, Hist, de la Civilisation en France, Le^on 14, Vol. IV. p. 151. 

2 " Benoist soient tuit li apaiseur. " — Joinville, p. 143. 

8 Sismondi, Hist, des Franpais, Part. IV. cli. 12, Tom. VIII. p. 196. 

^ Selden, The Duello, or Single Combat, from Antiquity derived into this 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 43 

only mode of trying a writ of right, by which the title 
to real property was determined, and the fines from 
the numerous cases formed no inconsiderable portion of 
the King's revenue.^ It was partially restrained by 
Henry the Second, under the advice of his chief jus- 
ticiary, the ancient law-wi'iter, Glanville, substituting 
the Grand Assize as an alternative, on the trial of a 
writ of right ; and the reason assigned for this substitu- 
tion was the uncertainty of the Duel, so that after many 
and long delays justice was scarcely obtained, in con- 
trast with the other trial, which was more convenient 
and swift.2 At a later day. Trial by Battle was re- 
buked by Elizabeth, who interposed to compel the par- 
ties to a composition, — although, for the sake of their 
lionor, as it was called, the lists were marked out and 
all the preliminary forms observed with much cere- 
mony.^ It was awarded under Charles the First, and 
the proceeding went so far that a day was proclaimed 
for the combatants to appear with spear, long sword, 
short sword, and dagger, when the duel was adjourned 
from time to time, and at last the king compelled 
an accommodation without bloodshed.^ Though fallen 

Kingdom of England; also, Table Talk, Duel: Works, Vol. III. col. 49-84, 
2027". 

1 Madox, Hist, of Exchequer, Vol. I. p. 349. 

2 " Est autem magna Assisa regale quoddam beneficium, .... quo vitae 
hominum et status integritati tam salubriter consulitur, ut injure quod quis 
in libero soli tenemento possidet retinendo, duelli casum declinare possunt 

homines ambiguum Jus enim, quod pout viultas et longas d'dationes vix 

evincitur per duelbim, per beneficium istius constitutionis commodius et ac- 
celeratius expeditur." (Glanville, Tractatus de Legibus et Consuetudinibus 
Regni Anglise, Lib. II. cap. 7.) These pointed words are precisely applica- 
ble to our Arbitrament of War, with its many and long delays, so little 
productive of justice. 

8 Robertson, Hist. Charles V., Vol. I. note 22. 

4 Proceedings in the Court of Chivalry, on an Appeal of High Treason by 



44 THE TKUE GRAI^DEUK OF NATIONS. 

into desuetude, quietly overruled by the enlightened 
sense of successive generations, yet, to the disgrace of 
English jurisprudence, it was not legislatively abol- 
ished till near our own day, — as late as 1819, — 
the rifht to it having been openly claimed in West- 
minster Hall only two years previous. An ignorant 
man, charged with murder, — whose name, Abraham 
Thornton, is necessarily connected with the history of 
this monstrous usage, — being proceeded against by 
the ancient process of appeal, pleaded, when brought 
into court, as follows : " Not guilty ; and I am ready to 
defend the same by my body " : and thereupon taking 
off his glove, he threw it upon the floor. The appellant, 
not choosing to accept this challenge, abandoned his 
proceedings. The bench, the bar, and the whole king- 
dom were startled by the infamy ; and at the next ses- 
sion of Parliament Trial by Battle was abolished in 
England. In the debate on this subject, the Attorney- 
General remarked, in appropriate terms, that, " if the 
appellant had persevered in the Trial by Battle, he 
had no doubt the legislature would have felt it their 
imperious duty at once to interfere, and pass an ex post 
facto law to prevent sc degrading a spectacle from taking 
place." ^ 

These words evince the disgust which Trial by Bat- 
tle excites in our day. Its folly and wickedness are con- 
spicuous to aU. Eeverting to that early period in which 
it prevailed, our minds are impressed by the general bar- 
barism ; we recoil with horror from the awful subjection 
of justice to brute force, — from the impious profanation 

Donald Lord Rea against Mr. David Ramsay, 7 Cha. I., 1631 : Hargrave's 
State Trials, Vol. XI. pp. 124-131. 

' Hansard, Pari. Debates, XXXIX. 1104. Blackstone, Com., HI. 337; 
Chitty's note. 



THE TKUE GEAifDEUR OF NATIONS. 45 

of God in deeming liim present at these outrages, — 
from the moral degradation out of which they sprang, 
and which they perpetuated; we enrobe ourselves in 
self-complacent virtue, and thank God that we are not 
as these men, — that ours is an age of light, while theirs 
was an age of darkness ! 

But remember, fellow-citizens, that this criminal and 
impious custom, which all condemn in the case of in- 
dividuals, is openly avowed by our own coimtry, and 
by other countries of the great Christian Federation, 
nay, that it is expressly established by International 
Law, as the proper mode of determining justice between 
nations, — while the feats of hardihood by which it is 
waged, and the triumphsv of its fields, are exalted be- 
yond aU other labors, whether of learning, industry, or 
benevolence, as the well-spring of Glory. Alas ! upon 
our own heads be the judgment of barbarism which we 
pronounce upon those that have gone before ! At this 
moment, in this period of light, while to the contented 
souls of many the noonday sun of civilization seems to 
be standing still in the heavens, as upon Gibeon, the 
dealings between nations are still governed by the odious 
rules of brute violence which once predominated be- 
tween individuals. The Dark Ages have not passed 
away; Erebus and black Night, born of Chaos, still 
brood over the earth ; nor can we hail the clear day, 
until the hearts of nations are touched, as the hearts of 
individual men, and all acknowledge one and the same 
Law of Right. 

What has taught you, man ! thus to find glory in 
an act, performed by a nation, which you condemn as a 
crime or a barbarism, when conmiitted by an individual ? 



46 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

In what vain conceit of wisdom and virtue do you find 
this incongruous morality ? Where is it declared that 
God, who is no respecter of persons, is a respecter of 
multitudes ? Whence do you draw these partial laws 
of an impartial God ? Man is immortal ; but Nations 
are mortal. Man has a higher destiny than Nations. 
Can Nations be less amenable to the supreme moral 
law ? Each individual is an atom of the mass. Must 
not the mass, in its conscience, be like the individuals of 
which it is composed ? Shall the mass, in relations with 
other masses, do what individuals in relations with each 
other may not do ? As in the physical creation, so in 
the moral, there is but one rule for the individual and 
the mass. It was the lofty discovery of Newton, that 
the simple law which determines the fall of an ap- 
ple prevails everywhere throughout the Universe, — 
ruling each particle in reference to every other particle, 
large or small, — reaching from earth to heaven, and con- 
trolling the infinite motions of the spheres. So, with 
equal scope, another simple law, the Law of Bight, 
which binds the individual, binds also two or three when 
gathered together, — binds conventions and congrega- 
tions of men, — binds villages, towns, and cities, — 
binds states, nations, and races, — clasps the whole hu- 
man family in its sevenfold embrace ; nay, more, beyond 

" the flaming bounds of place and time, 
The living throne, the sapphire blaze," 

it binds the angels of Heaven, Cherubim, full of knowl- 
edge. Seraphim, full of love ; above aU, it binds, in self- 
imposed bonds, a just and omnipotent God. This is the 
law of which the ancient poet sings, as Queen alike of 
mortals and immortals. It is of this, and not of any 
earthly law, that Hooker speaks in that magnificent pe- 



THE TRUE GEANDEUR OF NATIONS. 47 

riod which sounds like an anthem : " Of Law there can 
be no less acknowledged than that her seat is the bosom 
of God, her voice the harmony of the world : all things 
in heaven and earth do her homage, the very least as 
feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from 
her power : both angels and men, and creatures of what 
condition soever, though each in different sort and man- 
ner, yet all with uniform consent, admiring her as the 
mother of their peace and joy." Often quoted, and 
justly admired, sometimes as the finest sentence of our 
English speech, this grand declaration cannot be more 
fitly invoked than to condemn the pretence of one 
law for the individual and another for the nation. 

Stripped of all delusive apology, and tried by that 
comprehensive law under which nations are set to the 
bar like common men, War falls from glory into barbar- 
ous guilt, taking its place among bloody transgressions, 
while its flaming honors are turned into shame. Pain- 
ful to existing prejudice as this may be, we must learn 
to abhor it, as we abhor similar transgressions by vulgar 
offender. Every word of reprobation which the enlight- 
ened conscience now fastens upon the savage combatant 
in Trial by Battle, or which it applies to the unhappy 
being who in murderous duel takes the life of his 
fellow-man, belongs also to the nation that appeals to 
War. Amidst the thunders of Sinai God declared, 
" Thou shalt not kill " ; and the voice of these thunders, 
with this commandment, is prolonged to our own day in 
the echoes of Christian churches. Wliat mortal shall 
restrict the application of these words ? Who on earth 
is empowered to vary or abridge the commandments of 
God ? Wlio shall presume to declare that this injunc- 
tion was directed, not to nations, but to individuals 



48 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

only, — not to many, but to one only, — that one man 
shall not kill, but that many may, — that one man shall 
not slay in Duel, but that a nation may slay a multi- 
tude in the duel of War, — that each individual is 
forbidden to destroy the life of a single human being, 
but that a nation is not forbidden to cut off by the 
sword a whole people ? We are struck with horror, and 
our hair stands on end, at the report of a single murder ; 
we think of the soul hurried to final account; we hunt 
the murderer ; and Government puts forth its energies to 
secure his punishment. Viewed in the unclouded light 
of Truth, what is War but organized murder, — murder 
of malice aforethought, — in cold blood, — under sanc- 
tions of impious law, — through the operation of an ex- 
tensive machinery of crime, — with innumerable hands, 
— at incalculable cost of money, — by subtle contriv- 
ances of cunning and skill, — or amidst the fiendish 
atrocities of the savage, brutal assault ? 

By another commandment, not less solemn, it is de- 
clared, " Thou shalt not steal " ; and then again there is 
another forbidding to covet what belongs to others : 
but all this is done by War, which is stealing and cove- 
tousness organized by International Law. The Scythian, 
undisturbed by the illusion of military glory, snatched 
a phrase of justice from an acknowledged criminal, when 
he called Alexander " the greatest robber in the world." 
And the Roman satirist, filled with similar truth, in 
pungent words touched to the quick that flagrant, un- 
blushing injustice which dooms to condign punishment 
the very guilt that in another sphere and on a grander 
scale is hailed with acclamation : — 

" nie crucem sceleris pretium tulit, hie diadema," l 
1 Juvenal, Sat. XIII. 105. The same judgment is pronounced by Fenelon 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 49 

Wliile condemning the ordinaiy malefactor, mankind, 
blind to the real character of War, may yet a little 
longer crown the giant actor with glory ; a generous 
posterity may pardon to unconscious barbarism the 
atrocities which have been waged ; but the custom, 
as organized by existing law, cannot escape the un- 
erring judgment of reason and religion. The outrages, 
which, under most solemn sanctions, it permits and in- 
vokes for professed purposes of justice, cannot be au- 
thorized by any human power ; and they must rise in 
overwhelming judgment, not only against those who 
wield the weapons of Battle, but more still against all 
who uphold its monstrous Arbitrament. 

When, 0, when shall the St. Louis of the Nations 
arise, — Christian ruler or Christian people, — who, in 
the Spirit of True Greatness, shall proclaim, that hence- 
forward forever the great Trial by Battle shall cease, — 
that " these battles " shall be abolished throughout the 
Commonwealth of Civilization, — that a spectacle so de- 
grading shall never be allowed again to take place, — 
and that it is the duty of nations, involving the high- 
est and wisest policy, to establish love between each 
other, and, in all respects, at all times, with all persons, 
whether their own people or the people of other lands, 
to be governed by the sacred Law of Bight, as between 
man and man ? 

IV. 

I am now brought to review the obstacles encountered 
by those who, according to the injunction of St. Augus- 

in his counsels to royalty, entitled, Exatnen de Conscience sur les Devoirs de 
la Royaute. 

VOL. I. 4 



50 THE TRUE GEANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

tine, would make war on War, and slay it with the 
word. To some of these obstacles I alluded at the 
be^nnning, especially the warlike literature, by which 
the character is formed. The world has supped so full 
with battles, that its modes of thought and many of its 
rules of conduct are incarnadined with blood, as the 
bones of swine, feeding on madder, are said to become 
red. Not to be tempted by this theme, I hasten on to 
expose in succession those various prejudices so pow- 
erful still in keeping alive the custom of War, including 
that greatest prejudice, mighty parent of an infinite 
brood, at whose unreasoning behest untold sums are 
absorbed in Preparations for War. 

1. One of the most important is the prejudice from 
hclief in its necessity. When War is called a necessity;, 
it is meant, of course, that its object can be attained in 
no other way. Now I think it has already appeared, 
with distinctness approachmg demonstration, that the 
professed object of War, which is justice between na- 
tions, is in no respect promoted by War, — that force 
is not justice, nor in any way conducive to justice, — ■ 
that the eagles of victory are the emblems of success- 
ful force only, and not of established right. Justice is 
obtained solely by the exercise of reason and judgment ; 
but these are silent in the din of arms. Justice is with- 
out passion ; but War lets loose all the worst passions, 
while " Chance, high arbiter, more embroils the fray." 
The age is gone when a nation within the enchanted 
circle of civilization could make war upon its neigh- 
bors for any declared purpose of booty or vengeance. 
It does " nought in hate, but all in lionorr Such is the 
present rule. Professions of tenderness mingle with 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS 51 

the first mutterings of strife. As if conscience-struck 
at the criminal abyss into which they are plunging, each 
of the great litigants seeks to fix upon the other some 
charge of hostile aggression, or to set up the excuse 
of defending some asserted right, some Texas, some 
Oregon. Each, like Pontius Pilate, vainly washes its 
hands of innocent blood, and straightway allows a 
crime at which the whole heavens are darkened, and 
two kindred countries are severed, as the vail of the 
Temple was rent in twain. 

Proper modes for the determination of international 
disputes are Negotiation, Mediation, Arbitration, and a 
Congress of Nations, — all practicable, and calculated 
to secure peaceful justice. Under existing Law of Na- 
tions these may be employed at any time. But the very 
law sanctioning War may be changed, as regards two or 
more nations by treaty between them, and as regards 
the body of nations by general consent. If nations 
can agree in solemn provisions of International Law 
to estabhsh "War as Arbiter of Justice, they can also 
agree to abolish this arbitrament, and to establish peace- 
ful substitutes, — precisely as similar substitutes are 
established by Municipal Law to determine contro- 
versies among individuals. A system of Arbitration 
may be instituted, or a Congress of Nations, charged 
with the high duty of organizing an Ultimate Tribunal, 
instead of " these battles." To do this, the will only is 
required. 

Let it not be said, then, that war is a necessity ; and 
may our country aspire to the glory of taking the lead 
in disowning the barbarous system of Lynch Law 
among nations, while it proclaims peaceful substitutes ! 
Such a glory, unlike the earthly fame of battle, will be 



52 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

immortal as the stars, dropping perpetual light upon 
the souls of men. 

2. Another prejudice is founded on the practice of 
nations, past and present. There is no crime or enor- 
mity in morals which may not find the support of hu- 
man example, often on an extended scale. But it will 
not he urged in our day that we are to look for a stand- 
ard of duty in the conduct of vain, fallible, mistaken 
man. Not by any subtile alchemy can man transmute 
Wrong into Eight. Because War is according to the 
practice of the world, it does not follow that it is right. 
For ages the world worshipped false gods, — not less 
false because all bowed before them. At this moment 
the prevailing numbers of mankind are heathen ; but 
heathenism is not therefore true. Once it was the 
practice of nations to slaughter prisoners of war; but 
the Spirit of War recoils now from this bloody sacri- 
fice. By a perverse morality in Sparta, theft, instead 
of being a crime, was, like War, dignified into an art 
and accomplishment ; like War, it was admitted into 
the system of youthful education ; and, like War, it M'as 
illustrated by an instance of unconquerable firmness, 
barbaric counterfeit of virtue. The Spartan youth, 
with the stolen fox beneath his robe eating into liis 
bowels, is an example of fortitude not unlike that so 
often admired in the soldier. Other illustrations crowd 
upon the mind ; but I will not dwell upon them. We 
turn with disgust from Spartan cruelty and the wolves 
of Taygetus, — from the awful cannibalism of the 
Feejee Islands, — from the profane rites of innumer- 
able savages, — from the crushing Juggernaut, — from 
the Hindoo widow on her funeral pyre, — from the 



THE TEUE GKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 53 

Indian dancing at the stake ; but had not all these, like 
War, the sanction of established usage ? 

Often is it said that we need not be wiser tlian our 
fathers. Eather strive to excel our fathers. What in 
them was good imitate ; but do not bind ourselves, as 
in chains of Fate, by their imperfect example. In all 
modesty be it said, we have lived to little purpose, if we 
are not wiser than the generations that have gone before. 
It is the exalted distinction of man that he is progres- 
sive, — that his reason is not merely the reason of a 
single human being, but that of the whole human race, 
in all ages from which knowledge has descended, in all 
lands from which it has been borne away. We are the 
heirs to an inheritance grandly accumulating from gen- 
eration to generation, with the superadded products of 
other lands. The child at his mother's knee is now 
taught the orbits of the heavenly bodies, 

" Where worlds on worlds compose one Universe," 

the nature of this globe, the character of the tribes by 
which it is covered, and the geography of countries, to 
an extent far beyond the ken of the most learned in 
other days. It is true, therefore, that antiquity is the 
real infancy of man. Then is he immature, ignorant, 
wayward, selfish, childish, finding his chief happiness in 
lowest pleasures, unconscious of the higher. The ani- 
mal reigns supreme, and he seeks contest, war, blood. 
Already he has lived through infancy and childhood. 
Eeason and the kindlier virtues, repudiating and ab- 
horring force, now bear sway. The time has come 
for temperance, moderation, peace. We are the true 
ancients. The single lock on the battered forehead of 
old Time is thinner now than when our fathers at- 



54 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

tempted to grasp it; the hour-glass has been turned 
often since ; the scythe is heavier laden with the work 
of death. 

Let us not, then, take for a lamp to our feet the 
feeble taper that ghmmers from the sepulchre of the 
Past. Eather hail that ever-burning light above, in 
whose beams is the brightness of noonday. 

3. There is a topic which I approach with diffidence, 
but in the spirit of frankness. It is the influence which 
War, though condemned by Christ, has derived from 
the Christian Church. When Constantine, on one of 
his marches, at the head of his army, beheld the lumi- 
nous trophy of the cross in the sky, right above the 
meridian sun, inscribed with the words. By this conquer, 
had his soul been penetrated by the true spirit of Him 
whose precious symbol it was, he would have found no 
inspiration to the spear and the sword. He would have 
received the lesson of self-sacrifice as from the lips of 
the Saviour, and learned that by no earthly weapon of 
battle can true victory be won. The pride of conquest 
would have been rebuked, and the bawble sceptre have 
fallen from his hands. By this conquer : by patience, 
suffering, forgiveness of evil, by all those virtues of 
which the cross is the affecting token, conqiier, and the 
victory shall be greater than any in the annals of So- 
man conquest; it may not yet find a place in the 
records of man, but it will appear in the register of 
everlasting life. 

The Christian Church, after the early centuries, failed 
to discern the peculiar spiritual beauty of the faith it 
professed. Like Constantine, it found new incentive to 
War in the religion of Peace ; and such is its character. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 55 

even in our own day. The Pope of Eome, the asserted 
head of the Church, Vicegerent of Christ upon earth, 
whose seal is a fisherman, on whose banner is a Lamb 
before the Holy Cross, assumed the command of armies, 
mingling the thunders of Battle with the thunders of 
the Vatican. The dagger projecting from the sacred 
vestments of De Eetz, while still an archbishop, was 
justly derided by the Parisian crowd as "the Arch- 
bishop's breviary." We read of mitred prelates in 
armor of proof, and seem stiU to catch the clink of 
the golden spurs of bishops in the streets of Co- 
logne. The sword of knighthood was consecrated by 
the Church, and priests were expert masters in mili- 
tary exercises. I have seen at tlie gates of the Papal 
Palace in Eome a constant guard of Swiss soldiers ; I 
have seen, too, in our own streets, a show as incongru- 
ous and inconsistent, — the pastor of a Christian church 
swelling the pomp of a military parade. And some 
have heard, within a few short weeks, in a Christian 
pulpit, from the lips of an eminent Christian divine, a 
sermon, where we are encouraged to serve the God of 
Battles, and, as citizen soldiers, fight for Peace : ^ a senti- 
ment in unhappy harmony with the profane language 
of the British peer, who, in addressing the House of 
Lords, said, " The best road to Peace, -iny Lords, is JFar, 
and that in the manner we are taught to worship our 
Creator, namely, by carr}dng it on with all our souls, 
with all our minds, with all our hearts, and with all 
our strength," 2 — but finding small support in a religion 
that expressly enjoins, when one cheek is smitten, to 

1 Discourse before the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company, by 
A. H. Vinton. 

2 Earl of Abingdon, May 30, 1794: Hansard, Pari. Hist., XXXI. 680. 



56 THE TEUE GKANDEUK OF NATIONS. 

turn the other, and which we hear with pain from 
a minister of Christian truth, — alas ! thus made infe- 
rior to that of the heathen who preferred the unjustest 
peace to the jiistest war} 

Well may we marvel that now, in an age of civiliza- 
tion, the God of Battles should be invoked. " Deo im- 
perante, QUEM ADESSE bellantibus credunt," are the 
appropriate words of surprise in which Tacitus de- 
scribes a similar delusion of the ancient Germans.^ 
The polite Eoman did not think God present with 
fighting men. This ancient superstition must have lost 
somctliing of its hold even in Germany ; for, at a 
recent period, her most renowned captain, — whose false 
glory procured for him the title of Great, — Frederick 
of Prussia, declared, with commendable frankness, that 
he always found the God of Battles on the side of the 
strongest regiments ; and when it was proposed to 
place on his banner, soon to flout the sky of Silesia, 
the inscription. For God and Country, he rejected the 
first word, declaring it not proper to introduce the name 
of the Deity in the quarrels of men. By this ele- 
vated sentiment the warrior monarch may be remem- 
bered, when his fame of battle has passed away. 

The French priest of Mars, who proclaimed the 

1 "■ Veliniquissimam pacem justissimo bello anteferrem,^^ are the words of 
Cicero. (Epist. A. Csecinaa: Epp. ad Diverges, VI. 6.) Only eight daj-s after 
Franklin had placed his name to the treaty of peace which acknowledged 
the independence of his country, he wrote to a friend, " May we never see 
another war ! for, in my opinion, there never was a good war or a bad peace." 
(Letter to Josiah Quincy: Works, ed. Sparks, Vol. X. p. 11.) It is with sin- 
cere regret that I seem, by a particular allusion, to depart for a moment 
from so great a theme ; but the person and the theme here become united. 
I cannot refrain from the effort to tear this iron branch of War from the 
golden tree of Christian Truth, even though a voice come forth from the 
breaking bough. 

2 De Moribus German., Cap. 7. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 57 

" divinity " of War, rivals the ancient Germans in faith 
that God is the tutelary guardian of battle, and he finds 
a new title, which he says " shines " on all the pages 
of Scripture, being none other than God of Armies} 
Never was greater mistake. No theology, no theodicy, 
has ever attributed to God this title. God is God of 
Heaven, God of Hosts, the Living God, and he is God 
of Peace, — so called by St. Paul, saying, " Now the God 
of Peace be with you all," ^ and again, " The God of Peace 
shall bruise Satan shortly," ^ — but God of Armies he is 
not, as he is not God of Battles.* The title, whether of 
Armies or of Hosts, thus invoked for War, has an oppo- 
site import, even angelic, — the armies named being sim- 
ply, according to authorities Ecclesiastical and Eabbinical, 
the hosts of angels standing about the throne. "WTio, 
then, is God of Battles ? It is Mars, — man-slaying, 
blood-polluted, city-smiting Mars ! ^ It is not He who 
binds the sweet influences of the Pleiades and looses the 
bands of Orion, who causes the sun to shine on the evil 
and the good, who distils the oil of gladness upon every 
upright heart, who tempers the wind to the shorn 
lamb, — the Fountain of Mercy and Goodness, the God 
of Justice and Love. Mars is not the God of Chris- 
tians ; he is not Our Father in Heaven ; to him can 
ascend no prayers of Christian thanksgiving, no words 
of Christian worship, no pealing anthem to swell the 
note of praise. 

And yet Christ and Mars are still brought into fel- 

1 Joseph de Maistre, Soirees de Saint-P^tersbourg, Tom. II. p. 27. 

2 Romans, xv. 33. 

3 Ibid., xvi. 20. 

* A volume so common as Cruden's Concordance shows the audacity of 
tiie martial claim. 
6 Iliad, V. 31. 



58 THE TEUE GKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

lowship, even interchanging pulpits. What a picture 
of contrasts ! A national ship of the line now floats 
in this harbor. Many of you have pressed its deck, 
and observed with admiration the completeness which 
prevails in all its parts, — its lithe masts and complex 
network of ropes, — its thick wooden walls, within 
which are more than the soldiers of Ulysses, — its 
strong defences, and its numerous dread and rude- 
throated engines of War. There, each Sabbath, amidst 
this armament of blood, while the wave comes gently 
plashing against the frowning sides, from a pulpit sup- 
ported by a cannon, in repose now, but ready to awake 
its dormant thunder charged with death, a Christian 
preacher addresses officers and crew. May his in- 
structions carry strength and succor to their souls ! 
But, in such a place, those highest words of the Mas- 
ter he professes, " Blessed are the peacemakers," " Love 
your enemies," " Eesist not evil," must, like Macbeth's 
" Amen," stick in the throat. 

It will not be doubted that this strange and unblessed 
conjunction of the Church with War has no little in- 
fluence in blinding the world to the truth, too slowly 
recognized, that the whole custom of war is contrary to 
Christianity. 

Individual interests mingle with prevailing errors, 
and are so far concerned in maintaining them that 
military men yield reluctantly to this truth. Like law- 
yers, as described by Voltaire, they are " conservators of 
ancient barbarous usages." But that these usages should 
obtain countenance in the Chm-ch is one of those anom- 
alies which make us feel the weakness of our nature, 
if not the elevation of Christian truth. To uphold the 
Arbitrament of AVar requires no more than to uphold 



THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 59 

the Trial by Battle ; for the two are identical, except in 
proportion. One is a giant, the other a pygmy. Long 
ago the Church condemned the pygmy, and this Chris- 
tian judgment now awaits extension to the giant. 
Meanwhile it is perpetual testimony ; nor should it 
be forgotten, that, for some time after the Apostles, 
when the message of peace and good-will was first re- 
ceived, many yielded to it so completely as to reject 
arms of all kinds. Such was the voice of Justin Mar- 
tyr, Irenseus, TertuUian, and Origen, while Augustine 
pleads always for Peace. Gibbon coldly recounts, how 
Maximilian, a youthful recruit from Africa, refused to 
sers'-e, insisting that his conscience would not permit 
him to embrace the profession of soldier, and then 
how Marcellus the Centurion, on the day of a public 
festival, threw away his belt, his arms, and the ensigns 
of command, exclaiming with a loud voice, that he 
would obey none but Jesus Christ, the Eternal King.^ 
Martyrdom ensued, and the Church has inscribed their 
names on its everlasting rolls, thus forever commemo- 
rating their testimony. These are early examples, not 
without successors. But Mars, so potent, especially in 
Eome, was not easily dislodged, and down to this day 
holds his place at Christian altars. 

" Thee to defend the Moloch priest prefers 
The prayer of hate, and beUo-ws to the herd, 
That Deity, accomplice Deity, 
In the fierce jealousy of wakened wrath, 
Will go forth with our armies and our fleets 
To scatter the red ruin on their foes ! 
0, blasphemy ! to mingle fiendish deeds 
With blessedness ! " 2 

1 Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Chap. XVI. Vol. I. p. 
680. 

2 Coleridge, Religious Musings, written Christmas Eve, 1794. 



60 THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

One of the beautiful pictures adorning the dome of a 
church in Eome, by that master of Art, whose immortal 
colors speak as with the voice of a poet, the Divine 
Eaphael, represents Mars in the attitude of War, with 
a dra^vn sword uplifted and ready to strike, while an 
unarmed angel from behind, with gentle, but irresist- 
ible force, arrests and holds the descending hand. Such 
is the true image of Christian duty ; nor can I readily 
perceive any difference in principle between those min- 
isters of the Gospel who themselves gird on the sword, 
as in the olden time, and those others, unarmed, and in 
customary suit of solemn black, who lend the sanction 
of their presence to the martial array, or to any form of 
preparation for War. The drummer, who pleaded that 
he did not fight, was held more responsible for the bat- 
tle than the soldier, — as it was the sound of his drum 
that inflamed the flagging courage of the troops. 

4. From prejudices engendered by the Church I pass 
to prejudices engendered by the army itself, having their 
immediate origin in military life, but unfortunately dif- 
fusing themselves throughout the community, in widen- 
ing, though less appa.rent circles. I allude directly to 
what is called the Point of Honor, early child of Chivalry, 
living representative of its barbarism.^ It is difiicult to 
define what is so evanescent, so impalpable, so chimeri- 
cal, so unreal, and yet which exercises such fiendish 

1 The Point of Honor has a literature of its own, illustrated by many vol- 
umes, some idea of which may be obtained in Brunet, " JIanuel du Libraire," 
Tom. VI. col. 1636 - 1638, mider the head of Chevalerie au Moyen Age, com- 
prenant les Taurnois, les Combats Singulie.rs, etc. One of these has a title 
much in advance of the age in which it appeared: " Chrestienne Confutation 
du Point d'Honneur sur lequel la Noblesse fonde aujourd'hui ses QuereUes 
et Monomachies," par Christ, de Chiffontaiue, Paris, 1579. 



THE TKUE GEANDEUK OF NATIONS. 61 

power over many men, and controls the intercourse of na- 
tions. As a little water, fallen into the crevice of a rock, 
under the congelation of winter, swells till it bursts the 
thick and stony fibres, so a word or slender act, drop- 
ping into the heart of man, under the hardening in- 
iiueuce of this pernicious sentiment, dilates till it rends 
in pieces the sacred depository of human affection, and 
the demons Hate and Strife are left to rage. The mus- 
ing Hamlet saw this sentiment in its strange and unnat- 
ural potency, when his soul pictured to his contempla- 
tions an 

" army of such mass and charge, 
Led by a delicate and tender prince, .... 
Exposing what is mortal and unsure 
To all that fortune, death, and danger dare, 
Even for an egg-shell" ; 

and when, again, giving to the sentiment its strongest 
and most popular expression, he exclaims, — 

" Rightly to be great 
Is not to stir without great argument, 
Btd greatly to find quarrel in a straw, 
Wlieji honor 's at the stake." 

And when is honor at stake ? This inquiry opens 
acjairi the arojument with which I commenced, and with 
which I hope to close. Honor can be at stake only 
where justice and beneficence are at stake ; it can never 
depend on egg-shell or straw ; it can never depend on 
any hasty word of anger or folly, not even if fol- 
lowed by vulgar violence. True honor appears in the 
dignity of the human soul, in that highest moral and 
intellectual excellence which is the nearest approach to 
quahties we reverence as attributes of God. Our com- 
munity frowns with indignation upon the profaneness 
of the duel, having its rise in this in-ational j^oint of 



62 THE TEUE GEANDEUE, OF NATIONS. 

honor. Are you aware that you indulge the same senti- 
ment on a gigantic scale, when you recognize this very 
point of honor as a proper apology for War ? We have 
already seen that justice is in no respect promoted by 
War. Is True Honor promoted where justice is not ? 
The very word Honor, as used by the world, fails to 
express any elevated sentiment. How immeasurably 
below the sentiment of Duty ! It is a word of easy 
virtue, that has been prostituted to the most opposite 
characters and transactions. From the field of Pavia, 
where France suffered one of the worst reverses in her 
annals, the defeated king writes to his mother, "All 
is lost, except honor" At a later day, the renowned 
French cook, Vatel, in a paroxysm of grief and mortifi- 
cation at the failure of two dishes for the table, exclaims, 
" I have lost my hoTior ! " and stabs himself to the heart.^ 
Montesquieu, whose writings are constellations of epi- 
grams, calls honor a prejudice only, which he places in 
direct contrast with virtue, — the former being the ani- 
mating principle of monarchy, and the latter the ani- 
mating principle of a republic ; but he reveals the inferi- 
ority of honor, as a principle, when he adds, that, in a 
•well-governed monarchy, almost everybody is a good 

1 The death of the culinary martyr is described by Madame de Sevign^ 
with the accustomed coldness and brilliancy of her fashionable pen (Lettres 
L. and LI., Tom. I. pp. 164, 165). It was attributed, she says, to the high 
sense of honor he had after his oitm way. Tributes multiply. A French 
vaudeville associates his name with that of this brilliant wi'iter, saying, 
" Madame de S($vign6 and Vatel are the people who honored the age of Louis 
XIV." The Almanach des Gourmands, in the Epistle Dedicatory of its con- 
cluding volume, addresses the venerable shade of the heroic cook : " You 
have proved that the fanaticism of honor can exist in the kitchen as well as 
the camp." Berchoux commemorates the dying exclamation in La Gastro- 
nomie, Chant III. : — 

" Je suis perdu d'honneur, deux rotis ont manqu^." 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 63 

citizen, while it is rare to meet a really good man.^ The 
luan of honor is not the man of virtue. By an instinct 
pointing to the truth, we do not apply this term to the 
high columnar qualities which sustain and decorate life, 
— parental affection, justice, benevolence, the attributes 
of God. He would seem to borrow a feebler phrase, 
showing a slight appreciation of the distinctive character 
to whom reverence is accorded, who should speak of 
father, mother, judge, angel, or finally of God, as persons 
of honor. In such sacred connections, we feel, beyond 
the force of any argument, the mundane character of 
the sentunent which plays such a part in history and 
even in common life. 

The rule of honor is founded in the imagined neces- 
sity of resenting by force a supposed injury, whether of 
word or act.^ Admit the injury received, seeming to 
sully the character ; is it wiped away by any force, and 
descent to the brutal level of its author? "Could I 
wipe your blood from my conscience as easily as this 
insult from my face," said a Marshal of France, greater 
on this occasion than on any field of fame, " I woidd 
lay you dead at my feet." Plato, reporting the angelic 
wisdom of Socrates, declares, in one of those beautiful 
dialogues shining with steUar light across the ages. 



1 Esprit des Lois, Liv. III. ch. 3 - 7. 

2 This is well exposed in a comedy of Molifere. 

" Don Pedre. Souhaitez-voiis quelque chose de moi ? 

" Hali. Oui, un conseil sur unfait d'honneur. Je sais qu'en ces mati^res 
il est mal-ais6 de trouver un cavalier plus consomme que vous 

" Seigneur,_/'ai re^u un soufflet. Vous savez ce qu'estunsoufflet, lorsqu'il 
se donne a main ouverte sur le beau milieu de la joiie. J'ai ce smfflet fiirt 
sur le coBur ; etje suis dans Vincertitude, si, pour me venger de Vagrant, je dois 
me batire nvec mon homme, ou bien lefaire assassiner. 

" Don Pedre. Assassiner, c'est le plus siir et le plus court chemin." 

Le Sicilien, So. XHI. 



64 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

tliat to do a wrong is more shameful than to receive a 
wrong} Aiid this benign sentiment commends itself 
alike to the Christian, who is bid to render good for 
evil, and to the enlightened soul of man. But who con- 
fessing its truth will resort to force on any point of 
honor ? 

In ancient Athens, as in unchristianized Christian 
lands, there were sophists who urged that to suffer 
was unbecoming a man, and would draw down incalcu- 
lable evil. The following passage, which I translate 
with scrupulous literalness, will show the manner in 
which the moral cowardice of these persons of little 
faith was rebuked by him whom the gods of Greece 
pronounced Wisest of Men. 

" These things being so, let us inquire what it is you 
reproach me with : whether it is well said, or not, that 
I, forsooth, am not able to assist either myself or any of 
my friends or my relations, or to save myself from the 
greatest dangers, but that, like the infamous, I am at the 
mercy of any one who may choose to smite me on the 
face (for this was your juvenile expression), or take 
away my property, or drive me out of the city, or (the 
extreme case) kill me, and that to be so situated is, as 
you say, the most shameful of all things. But my view 
is, — a view many times expressed already, but there 
is no objection to its being stated again, — my view, I 
say, is, Callicles, that to he struck on the face unjustly 
is not most shameful, nor to have my hody mutilated, nor 
my purse cut ; hut that to strike and cut me and mine 
unjustly is more shameful and worse — and stealing, too, 

1 This proposition is enforced by Socrates, with unanswerable reasoning 
and ilkistration, throughout the Gorgias, which Cicero read diHgently while 
studying at Athens (De Oratore, I. 11). 



THE TRUE GKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 65 

aind enslaving, and housebreaking, and, in general, doing 
any wrong whatever to me and mine, is more shameful and 
worse — for him wlw does the wrong than for me who suffer 
it. These things, which thus appeared to us in the for- 
mer part of this discussion, are secured and bound 
(even if the expression be somewhat rustical) with iron 
and adamantine arguments, as indeed they would seem to 
be ; and unless you, or some one stronger than you, can 
break them, it is impossible for any one, saying other- 
wise than as I now say, to speak correctly : since, for 
my part, / always have the same thing to say, — that I 
know not how these things are, hut that, of all %vliom I 
have ever discoursed with as now, no one is able to say 
otherwise without being ridiculous!' ^ 

Such is the wisdom of Socrates, as reported by Plato ; 
and it has found beautiful expression in the verse of an. 
English poet, who says, — 

" Dear as freedom is, and in my heart's 
Just estimation prized above all price, 
I had much rather be, myself the slave 
And wear the bonds than fasten them on him." 2 

The modem point of honor did not obtain a place 
in warhke antiquity. Tliemistocles at Salamis, when 
threatened with a blow, did not send a cartel to the 
Spartan commander. "Strike, but hear," was the re- 
sponse of that firm nature, which felt that true honor is 
gained only in the performance of duty. It was in 
the depths of modern barbarism, in the age of chivalry, 
that this sentiment shot up into wildest and rank- 
est fancies. ISTot a step was taken without it. No 
act without reference to the "bewitching duel." And 
every stage in the combat, from the ceremonial at its 

1 Gorgias, Cap. LXIV. 
a Cowper, The Task, Book II. w. 33-36. 
VOL. I. — 5 



66 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

beginning to its deadly close, was measured by tbis fan- 
tastic law. Nobody forgets As You Like It, with its 
humorous picture of a quarrel in progress to a duel, 
through the seven degrees of Touchstone. Nothing 
more ridicvdous, as nothing can be more disgusting, than 
the degradation in which this whole fantasy of honor 
had its origin, as fully appears from an authentic inci- 
dent in the life of its most brilliant representative. The 
Chevalier Bayard, cynosure of chivalry, the good knight 
without fear and without reproach, battling with the 
Spaniard Senor Don Alonso de Soto Mayor, succeeded 
by a feint in striking him such a blow, that the weapon, 
despite the gorget, penetrated the throat four fingers 
deep. The wounded Spaniard grappled with his antago- 
nist until they both rolled on the ground, when Bayard, 
drawing his dagger, and thrusting the point directly into 
the nostrils of his foe, exclaimed, " Senor Don Alonso, 
surrender, or you are a dead man ! " — a speech which ap- 
peared superfluous, as the second of the Spaniard cried 
out, " Senor Bayard, he is dead already ; you have con- 
quered." The French knight " would gladly have given 
a himdred thousand crowns, if he had had them, to have 
vanquished him alive," says the Chronicle ; but now 
falling upon his Ivnees, he kissed the earth three times, 
then rose and drew his dead enemy from the field, 
saying to the second, " Senor Don Diego, have I done 
enough ? " To which the other piteously replied, " Too 
much, Senor Bayard, for the Jwnor of Spain ! " when the 
latter very generously presented him with the corpse, 
it being his right, by the Law of Honor, to dispose of it 
as he thought proper: an act highly commended by 
the chivalrous Brantome, who thinks it difficult to say 
which did most honor to the faultless knight, — not 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 67 

dragging the dead body by a leg ignominiously from 
the field, like the carcass of a dog, or condescending to 
fight while suifering under an ague ! ^ 

In such a transaction, conferring honor upon the 
brightest son of chivalry, we learn the real character of 
an age whose departure has been lamented with such 
touching, but inappropriate eloquence. Thank God ! 
the age of chivahy is gone ; but it cannot be allowed 
to prolong its fanaticism of honor into our day. This 
must remain with the lances, swords, and daggers by 
which it was guarded, or appear, if it insists, only with 
its inseparable American companions, bowie-knife, pis- 
tol, and rifle. 

A true standard of conduct is found only in the 
highest civilization, with those two inspirations, justice 
and benevolence, — never in any barbarism, tliough af- 
fecting the semblance of sensibility and refinement. 
But this standard, while governing the relations of the 
individual, must be recognized by nations also. Alas ! 
alas ! how long ? We still wait that happy day, now 
beginning to dawn, harbinger of infinite happiness be- 
yond, when nations, like men, shall confess that it is 
better to receive a wrong than do a wrong. 

5. There is still another influence stimulating War, 
and interfering with the natural attractions of Peace : I 
refer to a selfish and exaggerated prejudice of country, 
leading to physical aggrandizement and political exal- 
tation at the expense of other countries, and in disre- 

1 La Tresjoyeuse, Plaisante et Recreative Hystoire, composee par le Loyal 
Serviteur, des Faiz, Gestes, Triumphes et Prouesses du Bon Chevalier sans 
Paour et sans Reprouche, le Gentil Seigneur de Bayart, Chap. XXIL : 
Petitot, Collection Complete des M^moires relatifs a I'Histoire de France, 
Tom. XV. pp. 238-244. Brantome, Discours siir les Duels : CEuvres, Tom. 
Vin. pp. 34, 35. 



68 THE TRUE GRANDEUK OF NATIONS. 



b 



gard of justice. Nursed by the literature of antiquity, 
we imbibe the sentiment of heathen patriotism. Ex- 
clusive love for the land of birth belonged to the re- 
ligion of Greece and Rome. This sentiment was ma- 
terial as well as exclusive. The Oracle directed the 
returning Eoman to kiss his mother, and he kissed 
Mother Earth. Agamemnon, according to ^schylus, 
on regaining his home, after perilous separation for 
more than ten years at the siege of Troy, before ad- 
dressing family, friend, or countryman, salutes Argos : — 

" By your leave, lords, first Argos I salute." 

The schoolboy does not forget the victim of Verres, with 
the memorable cry which was to stay the descending 
fasces of the lictor, " I am a Roman citizen," — nor those 
other words echoing through the dark Past, " How sweet 
and becoming to die for country ! " Of little avail the 
nobler cry, " I am a man," or the Christian ejaculation, 
swelling the soul, " How sweet and becoming to die 
for duty ! " The beautiful genius of Cicero, instinct at 
times with truth almost divine, did not ascend to that 
heaven where it is taught that all mankind are neighbors 
and kindred. To the love of universal man may be ap- 
pUed those words by which the great Roman elevated 
his selfish patriotism to virtue, when he said that country 
alone cmhraced all the charities of all} Attach this ad- 
mired phrase to the single idea of country, and you see 
how contracted are its charities, compared with that 
world-wide circle where our neighbor is the suffering 

1 " Cari sunt parentes, cari liberi, propinqui, familiares ; sed omnes omni- 
um caritates patria una complexa esV (De Offic, Lib. I. cap. 17.) It is 
curious to observe how Cicero puts aside that expression of true humanity 
which fell from Terence, " Humani nihil a me alienum puto." He says, " Est 
enim difficilis cura rerum alienarumJ''' Ibid., Lib. I. cap. 9. 



THE TEUE GKANDEUK OF NATIONS. 69 

man, though at the farthest pole. Such a sentiment 
would dry up those precious fountains now diffusing 
themselves in distant unenlightened lands, from the icy- 
mountains of Greenland to the coral islands of the 
Pacific Sea. 

It is the policy of rulers to encourage this exclusive 
patriotism, and here they are aided by the examples 
of antiquity. I do not know that any one nation is 
permitted to reproach another with this selfishness. 
All are selfish. Men are taught to live, not for man- 
kind, but only for a small portion of mankind. The 
pride, vanity, ambition, brutahty even, which all rebuke 
in the individual, are accounted virtues, if displayed in 
the name of country. Among us the sentiment is ac- 
tive, while it derives new force from the point with 
which it has been expressed. An officer of our navy, 
one of the heroes nurtured by War, whose name has 
been praised in churches, going beyond all Greek, all 
Roman example, exclaimed, " Our country, right or 
wrong" — a sentiment dethroning God and enthroning 
the Devil, whose flagitious character must be rebuked 
by every honest heart. How different was virtuous 
Andrew Fletcher, whose heroical uprightness, amidst 
the trials of his time, has become immortal in the say- 
ing, that he "would re5,dily lose his life to serve his 
country, but would not do a base thing to save it." ^ 
Better words, or more truly patriotic, were never uttered. 
" Our country, our whole country, and nothing hut our 
country" are other delusive sounds, which, first falling 
from the lips of an eminent American orator, are often 
painted on banners, and echoed by innumerable multi- 
tudes. Cold and dreary, narrow and selfish would be 

1 Character, prefixed to Political Works, p. viii. 



70 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

this life^ if notJiing hut our country occupied the soul, — - 
if the thoughts that wander through eternity, if the 
infinite affections of our nature, were restrained to that 
place where we find ourselves by the accident of birth. 

By a natural sentiment we incline to the spot where 
we were born, to the fields that witnessed the sports of 
childhood, to the seat of youthful studies, and to the 
institutions under which we have been trained. The 
finger of God writes all these things indelibly upon the 
heart of man, so that even in death he reverts with 
fondness to early associations, and longs for a draught 
of cold water from the bucket in his father's well. This 
sentiment is independent of reflection : for it begins be- 
fore reflection, grows with our growth, and strengthens 
with our strength. It is the same in all countries hav- 
ing the same degree of enlightenment, differing only 
according to enlightenment, under whose genial in- 
fluence it softens and refines. It is the strongest with 
those least enlightened. The wretched Hottentot never 
travels away from his melting sun ; the wretched Esqui- 
mau never travels away from liis freezing cold ; nor 
does either know or care for other lands. This is his 
patriotism. The same instinct belongs to animals. 
There is no beast not instinctively a patriot, cherish- 
ing his own country with all its traditions, which he 
guards instinctively against all comers. Thus again, in 
considering the origin of War, do we encounter the ani- 
mal in man. But as human nature is elevated, as the 
animal is subdued, that patriotism which is without rea- 
son shares the generous change and gradually loses its 
barbarous egotism. To the enlarged vision a new world 
is disclosed, and we begin to discern the distant moun- 
tain-peaks, all gilded by the beams of morning, reveal- 



THE TEUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 71 

ing that God has not placed us alone on tliis earth, but 
that others, equally with ourselves, are children of his 
care. 

The curious spirit goes further, and, while recognizing 
an inborn attachment to the place of birth, searches into 
the nature of the allegiance required. According to the 
old idea, still too prevalent, man is made for the State, 
not the State for man. Far otherwise is the truth. The 
State is an artificial body, for the security of the peo- 
ple. How constantly do we find in hiunan history that 
the people are sacrificed for the State, — to build the 
Eoman name, to secure for England the trident of the 
sea, to carry abroad the conquering eagles of France ! 
This is to barter the greater for the less, — to sacrifice 
humanity, embracing more even than country all the 
charities of all, for the sake of a mistaken grandeur. 

Not that I love country less, but Humanity more, do 
I now and here plead the cause of a higher and truer 
patriotism. I cannot forget that we are men by a more 
sacred bond than we are citizens, — that we are children 
of a common Father more than we are Americans. 

Thus do seeming diversities of nations — separated 
by accident of language, mountain, river, or sea — all 
disappear, and the multitudinous tribes of the globe 
stand forth as members of one vast Human Family, 
where strife is treason to Heaven, and all war is nothing: 
else than civil war. In vain restrict this odious term, 
importing so much of horror, to the dissensions of a 
single community. It belongs also to feuds between 
nations. The soul trembles aghast in the contempla- 
tion of fields drenched ■with fraternal gore, where the 
happiness of homes is shivered by neighbors, and kins- 
man sinks beneath the steel nerved by a kinsman's 



72 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS, 

hand. This is civil war, accursed forever in the calen- 
dar of Time. In tlie faithful record of the future, rec- 
ognizing the True Grandeur of Nations, the Muse of 
History, inspired by a loftier justice and touched to finer 
sensibilities, will extend to Universal Man the sympa- 
thy now confined to country, and no war will be waged 
without arousing everlasting judgment. 

6. I might here pause, feeling that those who have 
accompanied me to this stage will be ready to join in 
condenmation of War, and to hail Peace as the only con- 
dition becoming the dignity of human nature, while it 
opens vistas of all kinds abundant with the most fruit- 
ful promises. But there is one other consideration, 
yielding to none in importance, — perhaps more impor- 
tant than all, being at once cause and effect, — the cause 
of strong prejudice in favor of War, and the effect of 
this prejudice. I refer to Preparations for War in time 
of Peace. Here is an immense practical evil, requiring 
remedy. In exposing its character too much care can- 
not be taken. 

I shall not dwell upon the fearful cost of War itself. 
That is present in the mountainous accumulations of 
debt, piled like Ossa upon Pelion, with which civili- 
zation is pressed to earth. According to the most recent 
tables, the public debt of European nations, so far as 
known, amounts to the terrific sum of $ 7,777,521,840, 
— all the growth of War ! It is said that there are 
throughout these nations 17,000,000 paupers, or persons 
subsisting at the public expense, without contributing 
to its resources. If these millions of public debt, form- 
ing only a part of what has been wasted in War, could 



THE TEUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 73 

be apportioned among these poor, it would give to each 
$450, — a sum placing all above want, and about equal 
to the average wealth of an inhabitant of Massachu- 
setts. 

The public debt of Great Britain in 1842 reached to 
$ 3,827,833,102, the growth of War since 1688. This 
amount is equal to two thirds of all the harvest of 
gold and silver yielded by Spanish America, including 
Mexico and Peru, from the discovery of our hemi- 
sphere by Christopher Columbus to the beginning of 
the present century, as calculated by Humboldt.^ It 
is much larger than the mass of all the precious metals 
constituting at this moment the circulating medium 
of the world. Sometimes it is rashly said, by those 
who have given little attention to the subject, that 
all this expenditure has been widely distributed, and 
therefore beneficial to the people ; but this apology for- 
gets that it has not been bestowed on any produc- 
tive industry or useful object. The magnitude of tliis 
waste appears by contrast. For instance, the aggre- 
gate capital of all the joint-stock companies in Eng- 
land of which there was any known record in 1842, 
embracing canals, docks, bridges, insurance, banks, gas- 
lights, water, mines, railways, and other miscellaneous 
objects, was about $ 800,000,000, — all devoted to the 
welfare of the people, but how much less in amount 
than the War Debt ! For the six years preceding 
1842, the average payment for interest on tliis debt 
was $ 141,645,157 annually. If we add to this sum 
the further annual outlay of $66,780,817 for the army, 
navy, and ordnance, we shall have $208,425,974 az 
the annual tax of the English people, to pay for for- 

1 New Spain, Vol. III. p. 431. 



74 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

mer wars and prepare for new. During this same 
period, an annual appropriation of $24,858,442 was 
sufficient for the entire civil service. Thus War con- 
sumed ninety cents of every dollar pressed by heavy 
taxation from the English people. What fabulous mon- 
ster, what chimsera dire, ever raged with a maw so rav- 
enous ? The remaining ten cents sufficed to maintain 
the splendor of the throne, the administration of justice, 
and diplomatic relations with foreign powers, — in short, 
aU the more legitimate objects of a nation.^ 

Thus much for the general cost of War. Let us now 
look exclusively at the Preparations for War in time of 
Peace. It is one of the miseries of War, that even in 
Peace its evils continue to be felt beyond any other 
by which suffering humanity is oppressed. If Bellona 
withdraws from the field, we only lose sight of her flam- 
ing torches; the baying of her dogs is heard on the 
mountains, and civilized man thinks to find protection 
from their sudden fury only by inclosing himself in the 
barbarous armor of battle. At this moment, the Chris- 
tian nations, worshipping a symbol of common brother- 
hood, occupy intrenched camps, with armed watch, to 
prevent surprise from each other. Eecognizing War 
as Arbiter of Justice, they hold themselves perpetually 
ready for the bloody umpirage. 

It is difficult, if not impossible, to arrive at any exact 
estimate of these Preparations, ranging under four dif- 
ferent heads, — Standing Army, Navy, Fortifications, 
and Militia, or irregular troops. 

1 Here and in subsequent pages I have relied 'upon the Encyclopaedia 
Britannica, the Annual Register, McCulloch's Commercial Dictionary, Lau- 
rie's Universal Geography, founded on the works of Malte-Brun and Balbi, 
and the calculations of Hon. William Jay, in War and Peace, p. 16, and 
in his Address before the Peace Society, pp. 28, 29. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 75 

The number of soldiers now affecting to keep the 
peace of European Christendom, as a Standing Army, 
without counting the Navy, is upwards of two millions : 
some estimates place it as high as three millions. The 
army of Great Britain, including the forces in India, 
exceeds 300,000 men ; that of France, 350,000 ; that of 
Eussia, 730,000, and is reckoned by some as high as 
1,000,000 ; that of Austria, 275,000 ; that of Prussia, 
150,000. Taking the smaller number, and supposing 
these two millions to require for their support an aver- 
age annual sum of only $ 150 each, the result would 
be $300,000,000 for sustenance alone; and reckoning 
one officer to ten soldiers, and allowing to each of the 
latter an English shilling a day, or $ 88.33 a year, for 
wages, and to the former an average annual salary of 
$ 500, we have for the pay of the whole no less than 
$258,994,000, or an appalling sum-total, for both suste- 
nance and pay, of $ 558,994,000 a year. If the same cal- 
culation be made, supposing the force three millions, the 
sum-total will be $ 838,491,000 ! But to this enormous 
sum must be added another still more enormous, on 
account of loss sustained by the withdrawal of these 
hardy, healthy millions, in the bloom of life, from use- 
ful, productive labor. It is supposed that it costs an 
average sum of $500 to rear a soldier, and that the 
value of his labor, if devoted to useful objects, would 
be $ 150 a year. Therefore, in setting apart two mil- 
lions of men as soldiers, the Christian powers sustain 
a loss of $1,000,000,000 on account of training, 
and $300,000,000 on account of labor, in addition 
to the millions annually expended for sustenance and 
pay. So much for the Standing Army of Christian 
Europe in time of Peace. 



76 THE TRUE GEANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

Glance now at the Navy. The Eoyal Navy of Great 
Britain consists at present of 557 ships ; but deducting 
such as are used for convict ships, floating chapels, and 
coal depots, the efficient Navy comprises 88 ships of the 
line, 109 frigates, 190 small frigates, corvettes, brigs, and 
cutters, including packets, 65 steamers of various sizes, 
3 troop-shijDS and yachts : in all, 455 ships. Of these, 
in 1839, 190 were in commission, carrying in all 4,202 
guns, with crews numbering 34,465 men. The Navy of 
France, though not comparable with that of England, 
is of vast force. By royal ordinance of 1st January, 
1837, it was fixed in time of peace at 40 ships of the line, 
50 frigates, 40 steamers, and 19 smaller vessels, with 
crews numbering, in 1839, 20,317 men. The Eussian 
Navy is composed of two large fleets, — one in the Gulf 
of Finland, and the other in the Black Sea ; but the ex- 
act amount of their force is a subject of dispute among 
naval men and publicists. Some idea of the Navy may 
be derived from the number of hands. The crews of 
the Baltic amounted, in 1837, to not less than 30,800 
men, and those of the Black Sea to 19,800, or altogether 
50,600, — being nearly equal to those of England and 
France combined. The Austrian Navy comprised, in 
1837, 8 ships of the line, 8 frigates, 4 sloops, 6 brigs, 
7 schooners or galleys, and smaller vessels : the num- 
ber of men in its service, in 1839, was 4,547. The 
Navy of Denmark comprised, at the close of 1837, 7 
ships of the line, 7 frigates, 5 sloops, 6 brigs, 3 schoon- 
ers, 5 cutters, 58 gunboats, 6 gun-rafts, and 3 bomb- 
vessels, requiring about 6,500 men. The Navy of 
Sweden and Norway consisted recently of 238 gun- 
boats, 11 ships of the line, 8 frigates, 4 corvettes, and 
6 brigs, with several smaller vessels. The Navy of 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 77 

Greece has 32 ships of war, carrying 190 gims, with 
2,400 men. The Navy of Holland, in 1839, had 8 
ships of the line, 21 frigates, 15 corvettes, 21 brigs, 
and 95 gunboats. Of the untold cost absorbed in 
these mighty Preparations it is impossible to form an 
accurate idea. But we may lament that means so 
gigantic are applied by Christian Europe, in time of 
Peace, to the construction and maintenance of such su- 
perfluous wooden walls. 

In the Fortifications and Arsenals of Europe, crown- 
ing every height, commanding every valley, frowning 
over every plain and every sea, wealth beyond calcu- 
lation has been sunk. Who can tell the immense 
sums expended in hollowing out the living rock of 
Gibraltar ? Who can calculate the cost of all the 
Preparations at Woolwich, its 27,000 cannon, and its 
small arms counted by hundreds of thousands ? France 
alone contains more than one hundred and twenty for- 
tified places ; and it is supposed that the yet unfinished 
fortifications of Paris have cost upward of fifty millions 
of dollars. 

The cost of the Militia, or irregular troops, the Yeo- 
manry of England, the National Guard of Paris, and 
the Landwehr and Landsturm of Prussia, must add 
other incalculable sums to these enormous amounts. 

Turn now to the United States, separated by a broad 
ocean from immediate contact with the Great Powers 
of Christendom, bound by treaties of amity and com- 
merce with all the nations of the earth, connected with 
all by strong ties of mutual interest, and professing a 
devotion to the principles of Peace. Are Treaties of 
Amity mere words ? Are relations of Commerce and 
mutual interest mere things of a day ? Are professions 



78 THE TKUE GKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

of Peace vain ? Else why not repose in quiet, imvexed 
by Preparations for War ? 

Colossal as are European expenditures for these 
purposes, they are still greater among us in proportion 
to other expenses of the National Government. 

It appears that the average annual expenses of 
the National Government, for the six years ending 
1840, exclusive of payments on account of debt, were 
$26,474,892. Of this sum, the average appropriation 
each year for military and naval purposes amounted 
to $21,328,903, being eighty per cent. Yes, — of all 
the annual appropriations by the National Govern- 
ment, eighty cents in every dollar were applied in this 
unproductive manner. The remaining twenty cents suf- 
ficed to maintain the Government in all its branches, 
Executive, Legislative, and Judicial, — the administra- 
tion of justice, our relations with foreign nations, the 
post-office, and all the lighthouses, which, in happy, use- 
ful contrast with the forts, shed their cheerful signals 
over the rough waves beating upon our long and in- 
dented coast, from the Bay of Fundy to the mouth of 
the Mississippi. The relative expenditures of nations 
for Military Preparations in time of Peace, exclusive 
of payments on account of debts, when accurately un- 
derstood, must surprise the advocates of economy in 
our country. In proportion to the whole expenditure 
of Government, they are, in Austria, as 33 per cent ; in 
France, as 38 per cent ; in Prussia, as 44 per cent ; in 
Great Britain, as 74 per cent ; in the United States, as 
80 per cent ! ^ 

1 I have verified these results, but do little more than follow Judge Jay, 
who has illustrated this important point with his accustomed accuracy. — 
Address before the American Peace Society, p. 30. 



THE TRUE GKANDEUE OF NATIONS. V9 

To this stupendous waste may be added the still 
larger and equally superfluous expenses of the Militia 
throughout the country, placed recently by a candid 
and able writer at $50,000,000 a year I^ 

By a table of the National expenditures,^ exclusive of 
payments on account of the Public Debt, it appears, 
that, in fifty-four years from the formation of our 
present Government, that is, from 1789 down to 1843, 
$155,282,217 were expended for civil purposes, com- 
prehending the executive, the legislative, the judiciary, 
the post-office, light-houses, and intercourse with foreign 
governments. During this same period, $ 370,981,521 
were devoted to the Military establishment, and 
$169,707,214 to the Naval establisliment, — the two 
forming an aggregate of $540,688,735. Deducting 
from this amount appropriations during three years 
of War, and we find that more than four hundred 
and sixty millions were absorbed by vain Preparations 
for "War in time of Peace. Add to tliis amount a 
moderate sum for the expenses of the Militia during 
the same period, which, as we have seen, are placed 
at $50,000,000 a year, — for the past years we may 
take an average of $25,000,000, — and we have the 
enormous sum-total of $1,350,000,000 piled upon the 
$460,000,000, the whole amounting to eighteen hun- 
dred and ten millions of dollars, a sum not easily con- 
ceived by the human faculties, sunk, imder the sanc- 
tion of the National Government, in mere peaceful 
Preparations for War : almost twelve times as much as 
was dedicated by the National Government, during the 
same period, to all other purposes whatsoever. 

1 Jay, War and Peace, p. 13. 

2 Executive Document No. 15, Twenty-Eighth Congress, First Session, 
pp. 1018-19. 



80 THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

From this serried array of figures the mind instinc- 
tively recoils. If we examine them from a nearer point 
of view, and, selecting some particular item, compare it 
with the figures representing other interests in the com- 
munity, they will present a front still more dread. 

Within cannon-range of this city stands an institu- 
tion of learning which was one of the earliest cares of 
our forefathers, the conscientious Puritans. Favored 
child in an age of trial and struggle, — carefully nursed 
through a period of hardship and anxiety, — endowed 
at that time by the oblations of men like Harvard, — sus- 
tained from its first foundation by the parental arm of the 
Commonwealth, by a constant succession of munificent 
bequests, and by the prayers of good men, — the Uni- 
versity at Cambridge now invites our homage, as the 
most ancient, most interesting, and most important seat 
of learning in the land, — possessing the oldest and 
most valuable library, — one of the largest museums 
of mineralogy and natural history, — with a School of 
Law which annually receives into its bosom more than 
one himdred and fifty sons from all parts of the Union, 
where they listen to instruction from professors whose 
names are among the most valuable possessions of the 
land, — also a School of Divinity, fount of true learning 
and piety, — also one of the largest and most flourish- 
ing Schools of Medicine in the country, — and besides 
these, a general body of teachers, twenty-seven in num- 
ber, many of whose names help to keep the name of 
the country respectable in every part of the globe, 
where science, learning, and taste are cherished, — the 
whole presided over at this moment by a gentleman 
early distinguished in public life by unconquerable 
energy and masculine eloquence, at a later period by 



THE TKUE GKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 81 

the Tmsurpassed ability with which he administered the 
affairs of our city, and now, in a green old age, fuU of 
years and honors, preparing to lay down his present 
high trust.^ Such is Harvard University; and as one 
of the humblest of her children, happy in the memories 
of a youth nurtured in her classic retreats, I cannot 
allude to her without an expression of filial affection 
and respect. 

It appears from the last Eeport of the Treasurer, 
that the whole available projierty of the University, 
the various accumulation of more than two centuries 
of generosity, amounts to $ 703,175. 

Change the scene, and cast your eyes upon another 
object. There now swings idly at her moorings in this 
harbor a ship of the line, the Ohio, carrying ninety 
guns, finished as late as 1836 at an expense of 
$547,888, — repaired only two years afterwards, in 
1838, for $233,012, — with an armament which has 
cost $53,945, — making an aggregate of $834,845, 
as the actual outlay at this moment for that single 
ship,2 — more than $100,000 beyond all the available 
wealth of the richest and most ancient seat of learning 
in the land ! Choose ye, my fellow-citizens of a Chris- 
tian state, between the two caskets, — that wherein is 
the loveliness of truth, or that which contains the 
carrion death. 

I refer to the Ohio because this ship happens to be 
in our waters ; but I do not take the strongest case 
afforded by our Navy. Other ships have absorbed 
larger sums. The expense of the Delaware, in 1842, 
had reached $1,051,000. 

1 Hon. Josiah Quincy. 

2 Executive Document No. 132, Twenty-Seventh Congress, Third Session. 

VOL. I. — 6 



82 THE TRUE GEANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

Pursue the comparison still further. The expendi- 
tures of the University during the last year, for the 
general purposes of the College, the instruction of the 
Undergraduates, and for the Schools of Law and Divin- 
ity, amounted to $47,935. The cost of the Ohio for 
one year of service, in salaries, wages, and provisions, 
is $ 220,000, — being $ 172,000 above the annual expen- 
ditures of the University, and more than four times as 
much as those expenditures. In other words, for the 
annual sum lavished on a single ship of the line,/owr 
institutions like Harvard University might be sup- 
ported. 

Furthermore, the pay of the Captain of a ship like 
the Ohio is $ 4,500, when in service, — $ 3,500, when on 
leave of absence, or off duty. The salary of the Presi- 
dent of Harvard University is $2,235, without leave 
of absence, and never off duty. 

If the large endowments of Harvard University are 
dwarfed by comparison with a single ship of the line, 
how must it be with other institutions of learning and 
beneficence, less favored by the bounty of many genera- 
tions ? The average cost of a sloop of war is $ 3 1 5,0 0, — 
more, probably, than all the endownnents of those twin 
stars of learning in the Western part of Massachusetts, 
the Colleges at WilKamstown and Amherst, and of that 
single star in the East, the guide to many ingenuous 
youth, the Seminary at Andover. The yearly expense 
of a sloop of war in service is about $50,000, — more 
than the annual expenditures of these three institutions 
combined. 

I might press the comparison with other institutions 
of beneficence, — with our annual appropriations for 
the Blind, that noble and successful charity which 



THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 83 

sheds true lustre upon the Commonwealth, amount- 
ing to $ 12,000, and for the Insane, another charity- 
dear to humanity, amoimting to $27,844. 

Take all the institutions of Learning and Beneficence, 
the crown jewels of the Commonwealth, schools, col- 
leges, hospitals, asylums, and the sums by which they 
have been purchased and preserved are trivial and 
beggarly, compared with the treasures squandered with- 
in the borders of Massachusetts in vain Preparations 
for War, — upon the Navy Yard at Charlestown, with 
its stores on hand, costing $4,741,000, — the fortifi- 
cations in the harbors of Massachusetts, where untold 
sums are already sunk, and it is now proposed to sink 
$ 3,875,000 more,^ — and the Arsenal at Springfield, con- 
taining, in 1842, 175,118 muskets, valued at $ 2,099,998,2 
and maintained by an annual appropriation of $ 200,000, 
whose highest value will ever be, in the judgment of all 
lovers of truth, that it inspired a poem which in in- 
fluence will be mightier than a battle, and will endure 
when arsenals and fortifications have crumbled to earth. 
Some of the verses of this Psalm of Peace may relieve 
the detail of statistics, while they happily blend with 
my argument. 

" Were half the power that fills the world with terror, 
Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, 
Given to redeem the human mind from error, 
There were no need of arsenals or forts : 

" The warrior's name would be a name abhorred, 
And every nation that should lift again 
Its hand against a brother on its forehead 

Would wear forevermore the curse of Cain." 8 

1 Report of Secretary of War, Senate Document No. 2, Twenty-Seventh 
Congress, Second Session, — where we are asked to invest in a general sys- 
tem of land defences $ 51,677,929. 

2 Executive Document No. 3, Twenty-Seventh Congress, Third Session. 

3 Longfellow, The Arsenal at Springfield. 



84 THE TRUE GEANDEUE OF NATIONS. 

Turn now to a high and peculiar interest of the 
nation, the administration of justice. Perhaj)s no part 
of our system is regarded with more pride and confi- 
dence, especially by the enlightened sense of the coun- 
try. To this, indeed, all other concerns of Government, 
with all its complications of machinery, are in a man- 
ner subordinate, since it is for the sake of justice that 
men come together in communities and establish laws. 
What part of the Government can compare in impor- 
tance with the National Judiciary, that great balance- 
wheel of the Constitution, controlling the relations of 
the several States to each other, the legislation of Con- 
gress and of the States, besides private interests to an 
incalculable amount ? Nor can the citizen who discerns 
the true glory of his country fail to recognize in the im- 
mortal judgments of Marshall, now departed, and of 
Story, who is still spared to us — serus in ccelum redeat ! 
— a higher claim to admiration and gratitude than can 
be found in any triumph of battle. The expenses of 
this great department under the National Govern- 
ment, in 1842, embracing the cost of court-houses, the 
salaries of judges, the pay of juries, and of all the law 
officers throughout the United States, in short, all the 
outlay by which justice, according to the requirement 
of Magna Charta, is carried to every man's door, 
amounted to $560,990, — a larger sum than is usually 
appropriated for this purpose, but how insignificant, 
compared with the cormorant demands of Army and 
Navy! 

Let me allude to one more curiosity of waste. By a 
calculation founded on the expenses of the Navy it 
appears that the average cost of each gun carried over 
the ocean for one year amounts to about fifteen thou- 



THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 85 

sand dollars, — a sum sufficient to maintain ten or even 
twenty professors of Colleges, and equal to the salaries 
of all the Judges of the Supreme Court of Massachu- 
setts and the Governor combined ! 

Such are illustrations of that tax which nations con- 
stituting the great Federation of Civilization, including 
our own country, impose on the people, in time of pro- 
found peace, for no permanent productive work, for no 
institution of learning, for no gentle charity, for no pur- 
pose of good. Wearily climbing from expenditure to 
expenditure, from waste to waste, we seem to pass be- 
yond the region of ordinary measurement; Alps on 
Alps arise, on whose crowning heights of everlasting 
cold, far above the habitations of man, where no gi'een 
thing lives, where no creature draws breath, we behold 
the sharp, icy, flashing glacier of War. 

In the contemplation of this spectacle the soul swells 
■with alternate despair and hope : with despair, at the 
thought of such wealth, capable of such service to Hu- 
manity, not merely wasted, but bestowed to perpetuate 
Hate ; with hope, as the blessed vision arises of aR 
these incalculable means secured to purposes of Peace. 
The whole world labors with poverty and distress ; and 
the painful question occurs in Europe more than here. 
What shall become of the poor, — the increasing 
Standing Army of the poor ? Could the voice that now 
addresses you penetrate those distant councils, or coun- 
cils nearer home, it would say. Disband your Standing 
Armies of soldiers, employ your Navies in peaceful and 
enriching commerce, abandon Fortifications and Arse- 
nals, or dedicate them to works of Beneficence, as the 
statue of Jupiter Capitolinus was changed to the image 



86 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

of a Christian saint ; in fine, utterly renounce the pres- 
ent incongruous system of Armed Peace. 

That I may not seem to accept this conclusion too 
hastily, at least as regards our own country, I shall con- 
sider the asserted usefulness of the national arma- 
ments, — and then expose the fallacy, at least in the 
present age and among Christian nations, of the maxim, 
that in time of Peace we must prepare for War. 

For what use is the Standing Army of the United 
States ? For many generations it has been a priaciple 
of freedom to avoid a standing army ; and one of the 
complaints in the Declaration of Independence was, 
that George the Third had quartered large bodies of 
troops in the Colonies. For the first years after the 
adoption of the National Constitution, during our period 
of weakness, before our power was assm^ed, before our 
name had become respected in the family of nations, 
under the administration of Washington, a small sum 
was ample for the military establishment of the United 
States. It was at a later day that the country, touched 
by martial insanity, abandoned the true economy of a 
Eepublic, and, in imitation of monarchical powers, 
lavished means, grudged to Peace, in vain preparation 
for War. It may now be said of our Army, as Dunning 
said of the influence of the Cro^vn, it has increased, is 
increasing, and ought to be diminished. At this mo- 
ment there are in the country more than sixty milita- 
ry posts. For any of these it would be difficult to pre- 
sent a reasonable apology, — unless, perhaps, on some 
distant Indian frontier. Of what use is the detach- 
ment of the Second Artillery at the quiet town of ISTew 
London, in Connecticut ? Of what use is the detach- 



THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS, 87 

ment of the First Artillery in that pleasant resort of 
fasliion, Newport ? By exhilarating music and showy 
parade they may amuse an idle hour; but is it not 
equally true that emotions of a different character will 
be aroused in thoughtful bosoms ? He must have 
lost something of sensibility to the dignity of human 
nature who can observe, without at least a passing 
regret, all the details of discipline — drill, marching, 
countermarcliing — which fill the life of the soldier, and 
prepare him to become the rude, inanimate part of that 
machme to which an army is likened by the great liv- 
ing master of the Art of War.^ And this sensibility 
may be more disturbed by the spectacle of ingenuous 
youth, in chosen numbers, under the auspices of the 
Government, amidst the bewitching scenery of West 
Point, painfully trained to these same exercises, — at a 
cost to the country, since the establishment of this 
Academy, of above four millions of dollars. 

In Europe, Standing Armies are supposed to be 
needed in support of Government ; but this excuse can- 
not prevail here. The monarchs of the Old World, like 
the chiefs of the ancient German tribes, are upborne on 
the shields of the soldiery. Happily, with us. Govern- 
ment needs no janizaries. The hearts of the people are 
a sufficient support. 

I hear a voice from some defender of this abuse, some 
upholder of this " rotten borough," crying, The Army is 
needed for defence ! As well might you say that the 
shadow is needed for defence. For what is the Army 
of the United States, but the feeble shadow of the Amer- 
ican people ? In placing the Army on its present footing, 
so small in numbers, compared with the forces of great 

1 The Duke of Wellington. 



88 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

European States, our Government tacitly admits its super- 
Jluousness for defence. It only remains to declare that 
the country will repose in the consciousness of right, 
without the extravagance of soldiers, unproductive con- 
sumers of the fruits of the earth, who might do the 
country good senvice in the various departments of 
useful industry. 

For what use is the Namj of the United States ? 
The annual expense of our Navy, during recent years, 
has been upwards of six millions of dollars. For what 
purpose ? Not for the apprehension of pirates, since 
frigates and ships of the line are of too great bulk for 
this service. Not for the suppression of the Slave 
Trade ; for, under the stipulations with Great Britain, 
we employ only eighty guns in this holy alliance. Not 
to protect our coasts ; for all agree that our few ships 
would form an unavailing defence against any serious 
attack. Not for these purposes, you admit ; hut for the 
protection of our Navigation. This is not the occasion 
for minute estimates. Suffice it to say, that an intelli- 
gent merchant, extensively engaged in commerce for the 
last twenty years, and who speaks, therefore, with the 
authority of knowledge, has demonstrated, in a tract of 
perfect clearness,^ that the annual profits of the whole 
mercantile marine of the country do not equal the an- 
nual expenditure of our Navy. Admitting the profit 
of a merchant ship to be four thousand dollars a year, 
which is a large allowance, it will take the earnings of 
one hundred ships to build and employ for one year a 
single sloop of war, of one hundred and fifty ships to 
build and employ a frigate, and of nearly three hundred 

1 I refer to the pamphlet of S. E. Coues, " United States Navy: What is 
its Use? " 



THE TKUE CxKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 89 

ships to build and employ a ship of the line. Thus 
more than five hundred ships must do a profitable 
business to earn a sufficient sum for the support of 
this little fleet. Still further, taking a received esti- 
mate putting the mercantile marine of the United States 
at forty millions of dollars, we find that it is only a 
little more than six times the annual cost of the Navy ; 
so that this interest is protected at a charge of more than 
fifteen jper cent of its whole value ! Protection at such 
price is not less ruinous than one of Pyrrhus's victories. 

It is to the Navy as an unnecessary arm of national 
defence, and part of the War establishment, that I con- 
fine my objection. So far as it is required for science, 
or for the police of the seas, — to scour them of pirates, 
and, above all, to defeat the hateful traffic in human 
flesh, — it is a fit engine of Government, and cannot be 
obnoxious as a portion of the machinery of War. But, 
surely, a most costly navy to protect navigation in time 
of Peace against assaults from civilized nations is ab- 
surdly superfluous. The free cities of Hamburgh and 
Bremen, survivors of the powerful Hanseatic League, 
with a commerce whitening the most distant seas, are 
without a single ship of war. Following this prudent 
example, the United States might be willing to abandon 
an institution already become a vain and expensive 
toy. 

For what use are the Fortifications of the United 
States ? We have abeady seen the enormous sums 
locked in the odious mortmain of their everlasting 
masonry. Like the Pyramids, they seem by mass and 
solidity to defy Time. Nor can I doubt that hereafter, 
like these same monuments, they will be looked upon 
with wonder, as the types of an extinct superstition, not 



90 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

less degrading than that of Ancient Egypt. Under the 
pretence of saving the country from conquest and blood- 
shed they are reared. But whence the danger ? On 
what side ? Wliat people to fear ? No civilized na- 
tion threatens our borders with rapine or trespass. 
None will. Nor, in the existing state of civilization, 
and under existing International Law, is it possible to 
suppose any war with such a nation, unless, renoun- 
cing the peaceful Tribunal of Arbitration, we volun- 
tarily appeal to Trial by Battle. The fortifications 
might be of service then. But perhaps they would 
invite the attack they might be inadequate to defeat. 
According to a modern rule, illustrated with admirable 
ability in the diplomatic correspondence of Mr. Web- 
ster, non-combatants and their property on land are 
not molested. So firmly did the Duke of Wellington 
act upon this rule, that, throughout the revengeful cam- 
paigns of Spain, and afterwards entering France, flushed 
with the victory of Waterloo, he directed his army to 
pay for all provisions, even the forage of their horses. 
War is carried on against public property, — against 
fortifications, navy-yards, and arsenals. If these do not 
exist, where is its aliment, where the fuel for the 
flame ? Paradoxical as it seems, and disparaging to the 
whole trade of War, it may be proper to inquire, wheth- 
er, according to acknowledged laws, now governing this 
bloody arbitrament, every new fortification and every 
additional gun in our harbor is not less a safeguard than 
a danger. Do they not draw the lightning of battle 
upon our homes, without, alas ! any conductor to hurry 
its terrors innocently beneath the concealing bosom of 
the earth ? 

For what me is the Militia of the United States? 



THE TEUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 91 

This immense system spreads, with innumerable suck- 
ers, over the whole country, draining its best life-blood, 
the unbought energies of our youth. The same painful 
discipline which we observe in the soldier absorbs their 
time, though to a less degree than in the Eegular Army. 
Theirs also is the savage pomp of War. We read with 
astonishinent of the painted flesh and uncouth vest- 
ments of our progenitors, the ancient Britons. But the 
generation will come, that must regard with equal won- 
der the pictures of their ancestors closely dressed in 
padded and well-buttoned coats of blue "besmeared 
with gold," surmounted by a huge mountain-cap of 
shaggy bear-skin, and with a barbarous device, typical 
of brute force, a tiger, painted on oil-skin tied with 
leather to their backs ! In the streets of Pisa the 
galley-slaves are compelled to wear dresses stamped 
with the name of the crime for which they are suffering 
punishment, — as theft, robbery, murder. Is it not a 
little strange that Christians, living in a land " where 
bells have tolled to church," should voluntarily adopt 
devices which, if they have any meaning, recognize 
the example of beasts as worthy of imitation by man ? 

The general considerations belonging to Preparations 
for War illustrate the inanity of the Militia for pur- 
poses of national defence. I do not know, indeed, that 
it is now strongly urged on this ground. It is oftener 
approved as an important part of the police. I would 
not undervalue the advantage of an active, efficient, 
ever-wakeful police ; and I believe that such a police 
has been long required. But the Militia, where youth 
and character are without the strength of experience, is 
inadequate for this purpose. No person who has seen 
this arm of the police in an actual riot can hesitate in 



92 ■ THE TEUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS.' , 

tills judgment. A very small portion of the means 
absorbed by the Militia would provide a substantial 
police, competent to all the domestic emergencies of 
disorder and violence. The city of Boston has discarded 
a Fire Department composed of accidental volunteers. 
Wliy not do the same with the police, and set another 
example to the country ? 

I am well aware that efforts to reduce the Militia 
are encountered by some of the dearest prejudices of the 
comnuon mind, — not only by the War Spirit, but by 
that other, which first animates childhood, and, at a 
later day, " children of a larger growth," inviting to 
finery of dress and parade, — the same wliich fantasti- 
cally bedecks the dusky feather-cinctured chief of the 
soft regions warmed by the tropical sun, — which in- 
.serts a ring in the nose of the North American Indian, 
— which slits the ears of the Australian savage, and 
tattoos the New Zealand cannibal. 

Such are the national armaments, in their true char- 
acter and value. Thus far I have rea-arded them in 
the plainest light of ordinary worldly economy, without 
reference to those higher considerations, drawn from 
the nature and history of man and the truths of Chris- 
tianity, which pronounce them vain. It is grateful to 
know, that, though having yet the support of what 
Jeremy Taylor caUs "popular noises," the other more 
economical, more humane, more wise, more Christian 
system is daily commending itself to good people. On 
its side are all the vii'tues that truly elevate a state. 
Economy, sick of pygmy efforts to stanch the smallest 
fountain and riU of exuberant expenditure, pleads that 
here is a measureless, fathomless, endless river, an 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 93 

Amazon of waste, rolling its prodigal waters turbidly, 
ruinously, hatefully, to the sea. It chides us with 
unnatm-al inconsistency, when we strain at a little 
twine and paper, and swallow the monstrous cables 
and armaments of War. Humanity pleads for the 
surpassing interests of Knowledge and Benevolence, 
from which such mighty means are withdrawn. Wis- 
dom frowns on these Preparations, as nursing senti- 
ments inconsistent with Peace ; Christianity cabnly 
rebukes the spirit in which they have their origin, as 
of little faith, and treacherous to her high behests ; 
while History, exhibiting the sure, though gradual. 
Progress of Man, points with imerring finger to that 
destiny of True Grandeur, when nations, like individu- 
als, disowning War as a proper Arbiter of Justice, shall 
abandon the oppressive apparatus of Armies, Navies, 
and Fortifications, by which it is waged. 

Before considering the familiar injunction, In time of 
Peace jprepare for War, I hope I shall not seem to de- 
scend from the proper sphere of this discussion, if I 
refer to the parade of barbarous mottoes, and of emblems 
from beasts, as another impediment to the proper ap- 
preciation of these Preparations. These mottoes and 
emblems, prompting to War, are obtruded on the very 
ensigns of power and honor, and, careless of their dis- 
creditable import, men learn to 'regard them with 
patriotic pride. In the armorial bearings of nations 
and individuals, beasts and birds of prey are the ex- 
emplars of True Grandeur. The lion appears on the 
flag of England ; the leopard on the flag of Scotland ; 
a double-headed eagle spreads its wings on the imperial 
standard of Austria, and again on that of Eussia ; wliile 



94 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

a single-headed eagle was adopted on the Napoleonic 
seal, and thus far the same single-headed bird is enough 
for Prussia. The pennons of knights, after exhausting 
the known kingdom of Nature, were disfigured by 
imaginary and impossible monsters, griffins, liippogriffs, 
imicorns, aU intended to represent the exaggeration of 
brute force. The people of Massachusetts unconsciously 
adopt this early standard. The escutcheon used as the 
seal of the State has an unfortunate combination, to 
which I refer briefly by way of example. On that part 
in the language of heraldry termed the shield stands 
an Indian with a bow in his hand, — certainly no 
agreeable memento, except to those who find honor in 
the disgraceful wars where our fathers robbed and 
murdered King Philip of Pokanoket, and his tribe, 
rightful possessors of the soil. The crest is a raised 
arm holding a drawn sabre in a threatening attitude, — 
being precisely the emblem once borne on the flag of 
Algiers. The scroll, or legend, is the latter of two 
favorite verses, in modern Latin, which are not traced 
to any origin more remote than Algernon Sidney, by 
whom they were inscribed in an album at Copen- 
hagen : — 

" Manus hsec iniraica tyrannis 
Ense petit placidam svb libertate quietem." l 

1 The Earl of Leicester, father of Sidney, in an anxious letter, August 30, 
1660, writes his son : " It is said that the University of Copenhagen brought 
their Album unto you, desiring you to write something therein, and that you 
did scribere in Albo these words [setting forth the verses], and put your 
name to it"; and then he adds, " This cannot but be publicly known, if it 

be true Either you must live in exile or very privately here, and 

perhaps not safely." The restoration of Charles the Second had just taken 
place. (Meadley, Memoirs of Algernon Sidney, pp. 84, 323-325.) Lord 
Molesworth, in a work which first appeared in 1694, mentions the verses as 
written by Sidney in " the Book of Mottoes in the King's Library^" and then 
teUs the story, that the French Ambassador, who did not know a word of 



THE TKUE GEANDEUR OF NATIONS. 95 

With singular unanimity, the Legislature of Massa- 
chusetts has expressed an earnest desire for the estab- 
lishment of a High Court of Nations to adjudge inter- 
national controversies, and thus supersede the Arbitra- 
ment of War. It would be an act of moral dignity- 
consistent with these professions, and becoming the 
character it vaunts before the world, if it abandoned 
the bellicose escutcheon, — at least, that Algerine em- 
blem, fit only for corsairs, if not also the Latin motto 
with its menace of the sword. If a Latin substi- 
tute for the latter be needed, it might be those words 
of Virgil, " Facisque imponere morem," ^ or that sen- 
tence of noble truth from Cicero, " Sine summa justitia 
rempublicam geri nuUo modo posse " : ^ the first a hom- 
age to Peace, and the second a consecration to Justice. 
Where such a spirit prevailed, there would be little 
occasion to consider the question of War Prepara- 
tions. 

Massachusetts is not alone in the bellicose anachro- 
nism of her banner. The nation is in the same cate- 
gory. Our fathers would have hesitated long before 
accepting the eagle for the national escutcheon, had 
they recalled the pungent words of Erasmus on this 
most unrepublican bird. <' Let any physiognomist, not 
a blunderer in his trade," says this most learned 
scholar, "consider the look and features of an eagle, 
those rapacious and wicked eyes, that menacing curve of 
the beak, those cruel cheeks, that stern front, — wiU he 

Latin, on learning their meaning, tore them from the book, as a libel on the 
French government, and its influence in Denmark. (Molesworth, Account 
of Denmark, Preface.) The inference from this narrative would seem to be 
that the verses were by Sidney himself. 

1 .Eneid, VI. 852. 

2 De Repubhca, Lib. II. cap. 43. 



96 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS, 

not at once recognize the image of a king, a magnificent 
and majestic king? Add to these a dark, ill-omened 
color, an unpleasing, dreadful, appalling voice, and that 
threatening scream at which every kind of animal trem- 
bles." Proceeding with his indictment, he describes 
the eagle in old age as satisfied with nothing but blood, 
with which he prolongs his hateful life, the upper man- 
dible growing so that he cannot feed on flesh, while the 
natural rapacity continues, — all of which typifies the 
wicked prince. But the scholar becomes orator, when, 
after mentioning that there are innumerable species of 
birds, some admirable for richness of plumage, some 
remarkable for snowy whiteness, some shining with 
befitting blackness, some pre-eminent in bodily stature, 
some notable for fecundity, some grateful at the rich 
banquet, some pleasant from loquacity, some captivating 
in song, some distinguished for courage, some created 
for the entertainment of man, — he proceeds to say: 
" Of all birds, the eagle alone has seemed to wise men 
the apt type of royalty : not beautiful, not musical, not 
fit for food, — but carnivorous, ravenous, plundering, 
destroying, fighting, solitary, hateful to all, the curse 
of all, and though able to do the greatest harm, yet 
wishing to do more than he can." ^ Erasmus, who says 
this and much more, is no mean authority. Brightest 
and best among the scholars who illustrated the modern 
revival of letters, loving peace, and detesting kings, he 
acquired a contemporary power and fame such as letters 
never bestowed before, if since, — at least until Voltaire, 
kindred in versatile genius, mounted the throne. In 
all the homage profusely offered to the latter there was 

1 Erasmi Adagia, Chil. III. Cent. VII. Prov. 1 : Scarabmna aguilam qucerit. 
Hallam, Literature of Europe, Part I. ch. 4. sec 43, 44. 



THE TEUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 97 

notliing stronger than that of Luther to Erasmus, when 
the great Eeformer asked, " Who is the man whose soul 
Erasmus does not occupy, whom Erasmus does not in- 
struct, over whom Erasmus does not reign ? " His face 
is still familiar from the devotion of two great artists, 
Albert Diirer and Hans Holbein, each of whom has left 
to us his portrait, — while he is commemorated by a 
bronze statue in Eotterdam, his birthplace, and by a 
monument in the ancient cathedral at Basel, where 
he died. It is this renowned scholar who castigates 
our eagle. Doubtless for fighting qualities this royal 
bird was transferred to the coin and seal of a Eepublic. 
His presence there shows the spirit which unconsciously 
prevailed ; and this same presence, beyond all question, 
exercises a certain influence, especially with the young, 
nursing a pride in that beak and those pounces which 
are the menace of War. 

The maxim, In time, of Peace, prepare for War} is 
transmitted from distant ages, when brute force was 
the general law. It is the terrible inheritance which 
painfully reminds present generations of their connec- 
tion with the Past. It belongs to the dogmas of bar- 
barism. It is the companion of harsh, tyrannical rules 
by which the happiness of the many is offered up to 
the few. It is the child of suspicion, and the forerun- 

1 If countenance were needed in thus exposing a pernicious jnaxim, I 
might find it in the German philosopher Kant, whose work on Perpetual 
Peace treats it with very little respect. (Kant, Sjimmtliche Werke, Band 
VII., Zum Ewigen Frieden, § 1.) Since this Oration, Sir Robert Peel and 
the Earl of Aberdeen, each Prime Minister of England, and practically con- 
versant with the question, have given their valuable testimony in the same 
direction. Life has its surprises ; and I confess one in my own, when the 
latter, in conversation on this maxim, most kindly thanked me for what I 
had said against it 

VOL. I. 7 



98 THE TRUE GEANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

ner of violence. Having in its favor almost -uninter- 
rupted usage, it possesses a hold on popular opinion not 
easily unloosed. And yet no conscientious man can 
fail, on careful observation, to detect its mischievous 
fallacy, — at hast among Christian nations in the 'present 
age, — a fallacy the most costly the world has wit- 
nessed, dooming nations to annual tribute in com- 
parison with which the extortions of conquest are as 
the widow's mite. So true is what Rousseau said, and 
Guizot has since repeated, that " a bad principle is far 
worse than a bad fact " ; for the operations of the 
latter are finite, while those of the former are infi- 
nite. 

I speak of this principle with earnestness ; for I 
believe it erroneous and false, founded in ignorance 
and wrong, unworthy of civilization, and disgraceful to 
Christians. I call it a principle ; but it is a mere 'pre- 
judice, — sustained by vulgar example only, and not by 
enlightened truth, — obeying which, we imitate the early 
mariners, who, steering from headland to headland, 
hugged the shore, unwilling to venture upon the broad 
ocean, with the luminaries of heaven for their guide. 
If not yet discerned in its true character, it is because 
the clear light of truth is discolored and refracted by an 
atmosphere where the cloud of War covers all. 

Dismissing the actual usage on the one side, and con- 
siderations of economy on the other, I would regard 
these Preparations in the simple light of reason, in a 
just appreciation of the nature of man, and in the in- 
junctions of the highest truth. Our conclusion will 
be very easy. They are twice pernicious, and whoso 
would vindicate them must satisfactorily answer these 
two objections : first, that they inflame the people, ex- 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 99 

citing to deeds of violence, otherwise alien to the mind ; 
and, secondly, that, having their origin in the low motives 
of distrust and hate, inevitably, by a sure law of the hu- 
man mind, they excite to corresponding action in other 
nations. Thus, in fact, are they 2^romoters of Wai', 
rather than preservers of Peace. 

In illustration of the first objection, it will occur at 
once to every inquirer that the possession of power is 
in itseK dangerous, tempting the purest and highest, 
and too rarely enjoyed without abuse. Nor is the 
power to employ force in War an exception. Nations 
possessing the greatest armaments are the most bellige- 
rent. It is the feebler powers which enjoy eras of 
Peace. Throughout more than seven hundred years of 
Eoman history resounds the din of War, with only two 
short lulls of Peace ; and in modern times this din has 
been echoed from France. But Switzerland has had no 
din. Less prepared, this Eepublic had less incentive to 
War. Not only in nations do we find this law. It ap- 
plies to individuals also. The same din which resounded 
in Kome and was echoed from France has filled common 
life, and from the same cause. The ivcaring of arms has 
been a provocative, too often exciting, as it furnished the 
weapon of strife. The odious system of private quar- 
rels, with altercation and hostUe meetings even in the 
street, disgracing the social life of modern Europe, con- 
tinued with this habit. This was its origin. But who 
can measiire the extent of its influence ? Dead bodies 
stretched on the pavements, and vacant chairs at home, 
were the contemporary witnesses. If death wa? hasty 
and unpremeditated, it was only according to the law 
of such encounter. Poets and autliors, wearing arms, 
were exposed to the rude chances. The dramatist Mar- 



100 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

lowe, in some respects almost Shakespearian, " renowned 
for his rare art and wit," perished ignominiously under 
the weapon of a vulgar adversary ; and Savage, whose 
genius and misfortune inspired the friendship and praise 
of Samuel Johnson, was tried at the Old Bailey for 
murder committed in a sudden broil. Nothing of this 
could have occurred without the habit of wearing arms, 
which was a fashion. Out of this came the Dance of 
Death. 

This pernicious influence is illustrated by Judge Jay 
with admirable plainness. He shows the individual as 
an example to nations. Listen, a moment, to what he 
says so well. "The expert swordsman, the practised 
marksman, is ever more ready to engage in personal 
combats than the man who is unaccustomed to the use of 
deadly weapons. In those portions of our country where 
it is supposed essential to personal safety to go armed 
with pistols and bowie-knives mortal affrays are so fre- 
quent as to excite but little attention, and to secure, with 
exceedingly rare exceptions, perfect impunity to the 
murderer ; whereas at the North and East, where we are 
unprovided with such facilities for taking life, compara- 
tively few murders of the kind are perpetrated. We 
might, indeed, safely submit the decision of the princi- 
ple we are discussing to the calculations of pecuniary 
interest. Let two men, equal in age and health, apply 
for an insurance on their lives, — one loiown to be ever 
armed to defend his honor and liis life against every 
assailant, and the other a meek, unresisting Quaker : can 
we doubt for a moment which of these men woidd be 
deemed by an Insurance Company most likely to reach 
a good old age ? " ^ 

1 Address before the American Peace Society, pp. 23, 24. 



THE TEUE GEANDEUR OF NATIONS. 101 

With this practical statement and its strong sense I 
leave this objection to War Preparations, adding a sin- 
gle supplementary remark, — What is good for the in- 
dividual is good for nations. 

The second objection, though different in character, is 
not less operative. It is founded on that law of hu- 
man nature according to which the very hate or dis- 
trust to which these Preparations testify excites in 
others a corresponding sentiment. This law is general 
and fundamental. Though rarely recognized by nations 
as a rule of conduct, it was never without its influence 
on individuals. Indeed, it is little more than a practi- 
cal illustration of the Horatian adage, >S'* vis me fiere, 
dolenduTti est prvrmim ipsi tihi : If you wish me to weep, 
you must yourself first grieve. Nobody questions its 
truth or applicability. But does it not proclaim that 
War Preparations in a period of professed Peace must 
naturally prompt adverse Preparations, and everywhere 
within the circle of their influence quicken the Spirit 
of War ? So are we all knit together that the feelings 
in our own bosoms awaken corresponding feelings in 
the bosoms of others, — as harp answers to harp in its 
softest vibration, as deep responds to deep in the might 
of its power. What in us is good invites the good in 
our brother; generosity begets generosity; love wins 
love ; Peace secures Peace ; — while all in us that is bad 
challenges the bad in our brother; distrust engenders 
distrust ; hate provokes hate ; War arouses War. There- 
fore are we admonished to avoid such appeal, and this 
is the voice of Nature itself. 

This beautiful law is everywhere. The wretched 
maniac, in whose mind the common principles of con- 
duct are overthrown, confesses its overruling power; 



102 THE TEUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

and the vacant stare of madness is illumined by a word 
of love. The wild beasts confess it : and what is the 
story of Orpheus, whose music drew in listening rapture 
the lions and panthers of the forest, or of St. Jerome, 
whose kindness soothed the lion to lie down at his feet, 
but expressions of its prevailing power ? ^ 

Even a fable may testify. I would not be tempted 
too far, but, at the risk of protracting this discussion, I 
cannot forget illustrations wliich show how poetry at 
least, if not history, has interpreted the heart of man. 

Looking back to the historic dawn, one of the most 
touching scenes illumined by that auroral light is the 
peaceful visit of the aged Priam to the tent of Achilles, 
entreating the body of his son. The fierce combat end- 
ed in the death of Hector, whose unhonored corse the 
bloody Greek has trailed behind his chariot. After 
twelve days of grief, the venerable father is moved to 
seek the remains of the son he has so dearly loved. 
He leaves his lofty cedarn chamber, and with a single 
aged attendant, unarmed, repairs to the Grecian camp 
beside the distant sounding sea. Entering alone, he 
finds Achilles in his tent, with two of his chiefs. Grasp- 
ing his knees, the father kisses those terrible homicidal 
hands which had taken the life of his son. Touched by 
the sight which he beholds, the heart of the inflamed, 
the angry, the inflexible Achilles responds to the feelings 

1 Scholars will remember the incident recorded by Homer in the Odys- 
sey (XIV. 30, 31), where Ulysses, on reaching his loved Ithaca, is beset by 
dogs, described as wild beasts in ferocity, who rash towards him barking; 
but he, with ci'oft (that is the word of Homer), seats himself upon the 
ground and lets his staff fall from his hand. A similar incident is noticed by 
Mr. Mure, in his entertaining travels in Greece , and also by Mr. Borrow, in 
his " Bible in Spain." Pliny remarks, that all dogs may be appeased in the 
same way: '■'■Impetus eorum, et scevitia mitigatur ab homine considente humi.'" 
Nat. Hist., Lib. VIII. cap. 40. 



THE TKUE GKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 103 

of Priam. He takes the suppliant by the hand, seats 
him by his side, consoles his grief, refreshes his weary 
body, and concedes to the prayers of a weak, unarmed 
old man what all Troy in arms could not win. In this 
scene, which fills a large space in the Iliad,^ the master 
poet, with unconscious power, has presented a picture 
of the omnipotence of that law, making all mankind 
of kin, in obedience to which no word of kindness, no 
act of confidence, falls idly to the earth. 

Among the early passages of Eoman history, per- 
haps none makes a deeper impression than that scene, 
after the Eoman youth wei-e consumed at the Allia, and 
the invading Gauls under Brennus had entered the city, 
where in a temple were seated the venerable Senators 
of the EepubKc, too old to flee, and careless of surviv- 
ing the Eoman name, each on his curule chair, unarmed, 
looking, as Livy says, more august than mortal, and 
with the majesty of the gods. The Gauls gaze as upon 
sacred images ; and the hand of slaughter, which had 
raged through the streets of Eome, is stayed by the 
sight of an unarmed assembly. This continued until 
one of the invaders standing nearest reached his hand 
to stroke gently the silver beard of a Senator, who, in- 
dignant at the license, smote the barbarian with his 
ivory staff, which was the signal for general vengeance. 
Think you that a band of savages could have slain these 
Senators, if the appeal to Force had not been made first 
by one of their own number ? This story, though re- 
counted by Livy, and also by Plutarch,^ is repudiated 
by Mebuhr ; but it is none the less interesting as a 
legend, attesting the law by which hostile feeKngs are 
aroused or subdued. 

1 Book XXIV. 2 Liv., Lib. V. cap. 41. Plutarch, Life of CamiUus. 



104 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

This great scene, in its essential parts, has been re- 
peated in another age and country. The theatre was 
an African wilderness, with Christian converts for Eo- 
man Senators. The little band, with their pastor, who 
was a local chief, assembled on a Sabbath morning for 
prayer, when suddenly robbers came upon them, as the 
Gauls upon Eome, and demanded cattle. The pastor, 
asking his people to sit still, calmly pointed to the cat- 
tle, and then turned back to unite with the rest in 
prayer. The robbers, like the Gauls, looked on in 
silence, awed into forbearance, until they quietly with- 
drew, injuring nobody and touching nothing. Such 
an instance, which is derived from the report of mis- 
sionaries,^ testifies again to the might of meekness, 
and proves that the Koman story, though reduced 
to the condition of a legend, is in harmony with actual 
Hfe. 

An admired picture by Virgil, in his melodious epic, 
furnishes similar testimony. The Trojan fleet, beaten 
by tempest on the raging waves, is about to succumb, 
when the God of the Sea, suddenly appearing in tran- 
quil power, stills the hostile elements, as a man vener- 
able for piety and deserts by a gentle word assuages a 
furious populace just breaking into sedition and out- 
rage.^ The sea and the populace were equally appeased. 
Alike in the god and the man was the same peaceful 
presence. Elsewhere is this same influence. Giiizot, 
illustrates this same influence, when, describing the 
development of mediaeval civilization, he exhibits an 
angry multitude subdued by an unarmed man, em- 

1 Moffat, Missionary Labors and Scenes in Southern Africa, Ch. 32. 

2 " llle regit dictis animos et pectora mulcet." 

^neid, I. 146 - 154. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 105 

ploying the word instead of the sword} And surely 
no reader of that noble historical romance, the Pro- 
messi Sposi, can forget that finest scene, where Fra 
Cristoforo, in an age of violence, after slaying his 
comrade in a broil, presents himself unarmed and peni- 
tent before the family and retainers of his victim, and 
by dignified gentleness awakens the admiration of 
men raging against him. Both hemispheres are at 
this moment occupied with the popular romance, Ze 
Juif Errant, by Eugene Sue, where is an interesting 
picture of Christian courage superior to the trained vio- 
lence of the soldier. Another example, made familiar 
by recent translations of Fritliiofs Saga, the Swedish 
epic,^ is more emphatic. The scene is a battle. Frithiof 
is in deadly combat with Atle, when the falchion of the 
latter breaks. Throwing away his own weapon, Frithiof 
says, — 

" Svxyrdless foeman' s life 
Ne'er dyed this gallant blade." 

The two champions now close in mutual clutch ; they 
hug like bears, says the poet. 

" 'T is o'er ; for Frithiof s matchless strength 

Has felled his ponderous size, 
And 'neath that knee, a giant length, 

Supine the Viking lies. 
' But fails my sword, thou Berserk swart,' 

The voice rang far and wide, 
' Its point should pierce thy inmost heart, 

Its hilt should drink the tide.' 
• Be free to lift the weaponed hand,' 

Undaunted Atle spoke; 
Hence, fearless, quest thy distant brand: 

Thus I abide the stroke.' " 

Frithiof regains his sword, intent to close the dread de- 

1 Guizot, Histoire de la Civilisation en France, Tom. H. p. 36. 

2 Longfellow, Poets and Poetry of Europe, p. 161 : Tegn^r. 



106 THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

bate, while his adversary awaits the stroke ; but his heart 
responds to the generous courage of his foe ; he cannot 
injure one who has shown such confidence in him. 

" This quelled his ire, this checked his arm, 
Outstretched the hand of peace." 

I cannot leave these illustrations without alluding 
again to the treatment of the insane, teaching, by con- 
clusive example, how strong in Nature must be the 
responsive principle. On proposing to remove tlie heavy 
chains from the raving maniacs of the Paris hospitals, 
the benevolent Pinel was regarded as one who saw 
visions or dreamed dreams. At last his wishes were 
gratified. The change in the patients was immediate ; 
the wrinkled front of warring passion was smoothed into 
the serene countenance of Peace. The treatment by 
Force is now universally abandoned ; the law of kind- 
ness takes its place ; and these unfortunates mingle to- 
gether, unvexed by restraints implying suspicion, and 
therefore arousing opposition. What an example to 
nations, who are little better than insane ! The an- 
cient hospitals, with their violent madness, making con- 
fusion and strife, are a dark, but feeble, type of the 
Christian nations, obliged to wear the intolerable chains 
of War, assimilating the world to one great madhouse ; 
while the peace and good-will now abounding in these 
retreats are the happy emblems of what awaits man- 
kind when at last we practically recognize the suprem- 
acy of those higher sentiments which are at once a 
strength and a charm, — 

" making their future might 
Magnetic o'er the fixed, untrembling heart." 

I might dwell also on recent experience, so full of 
delightful wisdom, in the treatment of the distant, de- 



THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 107 

graded convict of New South Wales, showing how con- 
fidence and kindness on the part of overseers awaken a 
corresponding sentiment even in outcasts, from whose 
souls virtue seems blotted out. 

Thus, from all quarters and sources — the far-off 
Past, the far-away Pacific, the verse of the poet, the 
legend of history, the cell of the mad-house, the con- 
gregation of transported criminals, the experience of 
daily life, the universal heart of man — ascends spon- 
taneous tribute to that law according to which we 
respond to the sentiments by which we are addressed, 
whether of love or hate, of confidence or distrust. 

If it be urged that these instances are exceptional, 
I reply at once, that it is not so. They are indubitable 
evidence of the real man, revealing the divinity of 
Humanity, out of which goodness, happiness, true great- 
ness can alone proceed. They disclose susceptibilities 
confined to no particular race, no special period of time, 
no narrow circle of knowledge or refinement, but pres- 
ent wherever two or more human beings come together, 
and strong in proportion to their virtue and intelli- 
gence. Therefore on the nature of man, as impregnable 
ground, do I place the fallacy of this most costly and 
pernicious prejudice. 

JSTor is Human Nature the only witness : Christianity 
testifies in familiar texts, and then again by holiest lips. 
Augustine, in one of his persuasive letters, protests, 
with proverbial heart of flame, against turning Peace 
into a Preparation for War, and then tells the soldier 
whom he addresses to be jpacijic even in war} From 

1 " Non enim pax quseritur ut bellum excitetur Esto ergo etiam bel- 

lando pacificus." — Augustini Epistola CCV., ad Bonifacium Comitem: 
Opera, Tom. 11. p. 318. 



108 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

the religion of his Master the great Christian saint had 
learned that Love is more puissant than Force. To the 
reflecting mind, the Omnipotence of God himself is 
less discernible in earthquake and storm than in the 
gentle, but quickening, rays of the sun, and the sweet 
descending dews. He is a careless observer who does 
not recognize the superiority of gentleness and kindness 
in exercising influence or securing rights among men. 
As the storms of violence beat upon us, we hug man- 
tles gladly thrown aside under the warmth of a genial 
sun. 

Christianity not only teaches the superiority of Love 
to Force, it positively enjoins the practice of the for- 
mer, as a constant, primal duty. It says, " Love your 
neighbors " ; but it does not say, " In time of Peace 
rear the massive fortification, build the man-of-war, en- 
list standing armies, train militia, and accumulate mili- 
tary stores, to overawe and menace your neighbor." 
It directs that we should do to others as we would 
have them do to us, — a golden rule for aU ; but how 
inconsistent is that distrust in obedience to which 
nations professing peace sleep like soldiers on their 
arms ! Nor is this all. Its precepts inculcate patience, 
forbearance, forgiveness of evil, even the duty of benefit- 
ing a destroyer, "as the sandal- wood, in the instant 
of its overthrow, sheds perfume on the axe which fells 
it." Can a people in whom this faith is more than an 
idle word authorize such enormous sacrifices to pamper 
the Spirit of War ? Thus far nations have drawn their 
weapons from earthly armories, unmindful that there 
are others of celestial temper. 

The injunction, " Love one another," is as applicable 
to nations as to individuals. It is one of the great laws 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 109 

of Heaven. And nations, like individuals, may well 
measure their nearness to God and to his glory by the 
conformity of their conduct to this duty. 

In response to arguments founded on economy, the 
true nature of man, and Christianity, I hear the skepti- 
cal note of some advocate of the transmitted order of 
things, some one among the " fire-worshippers " of War, 
saying, All this is beautiful, but visionary ; it is in ad- 
vance of the age, which is not yet prepared for the great 
change. To such I answer : Nothing can be beautiful 
that is not true ; but all this is true, and the time has 
come for its acceptance. Now is the dawning day, and 
now the fitting hour. 

The name of Washington is invoked as authority for 
a prejudice which Economy, Human Natiire, and Chris- 
tianity repudiate. Mighty and reverend as is his name, 
more mighty and more reverend is Truth. The words 
of counsel which he gave were in accordance with the 
spirit of his age, — which was not shocked by the 
slave-trade. But his great soul, which loved virtue 
and inculcated justice and benevolence, frowns upon 
those who would use his authority as an incentive 
to War. God forbid that his sacred character should 
be profanely stretched, like the skin of John Ziska, on 
a militia-drum, to arouse the martial ardor of the Ameri- 
can people ! 

The practice of Washington, during the eight years 
of his administration, compared with that of the last 
eight years for which we have the returns, may explain 
his real opinions. His condemnation of the present 
wasteful system speaks to us from the following table.-^ 

1 Executive Document No. 15, Twenty-eighth Congress, First Session. 



110 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 





Military 


Naval 


Years. 


Kstablishment. 


Establishment. 


1789-91 


$835,618 


$570 


1792 


1,223,594 


53! 


1793 


1,237,620 




1794 


2,733,539 


61,409 


1795 


2,573,059 


410,562 


1796 


1,474,672 


274,784 


Total, during eight 
years of Washington, 


1 $ 10,078,102 


$ 747,378 


1835 


$9,420,313 


$3,864,939 


1836 


19,667,166 


5,807,718 


1837 


20,702,929 


6,646,915 


1838 


20,557,473 


6,131,581 


1839 


14,588,664 


6,182,294 


1840 


1 2,030,624 


6,113,897 


1841 


13,704,882 


6,001,077 


1842 


9,188,469 


8,397,243 


Total, during eight 
recent years. 


1 $119,860,520 


$49,145,664 



Thus the expenditures for the national armaments un- 
der the sanction of Washington were less than eleven 
million dollars, while during a recent similar period of 
eight years they amoimted to upwards of one hundred 
and sixty -nine millions, — an increase of nearly fifteen 
hundred jper cent ! To him who quotes the precept of 
Washington I commend the example. He must be 
strongly possessed by the martial mania who will not 
confess, that, in this age, when the whole world is at 
peace, and our national power is assured, there is less 
need of these Preparations than in an age convulsed 
Avith War, when our national power was little respected. 
The only semblance of argument in their favor is the 
increased wealth of the country ; but the capacity to 
endure taxation is no criterion of its justice, or even of 
its expediency. 

Another fallacy is also invoked, that whatever is is 
right. A barbarous practice is elevated above all those 



THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. Ill 

authorities by which these Preparations are condemned. 
We are made to count principles as nothing, because 
not yet recognized by nations. But they are practically 
applied in the relations of individuals, towns, counties, 
and states in our Union. All these have disarmed. It 
remains only that they should be extended to the 
grander sphere of nations. Be it our duty to proclaim 
•the principles, whatever the practice. Through us let 
Truth speak. 

From the past and the present auspicious omens 
cheer us for the future. The terrible wars of the 
French Eevolution were the violent rending of the 
body preceding the exorcism of the fiend. Since the 
morning stars first sang together, the world has not wit- 
nessed a peace so harmonious and enduring as that 
which now blesses the Christian nations. Great ques- 
tions, fraught with strife, and in another age heralds 
of War, are now determined by Mediation or Arbitra- 
tion. Great political movements, which a few short 
years ago must have led to bloody encounter, are now 
conducted by peaceful discussion. Literature, the press, 
and innumerable societies, all join in the work of incul- 
cating good- will to man. The Spirit of Humanity per- 
vades the best writings, whether the elevated philo- 
sophical inquiries of the " Vestiges of the Creation," the 
ingenious, but melancholy, moralizings of the " Story of 
a Feather," or the overflowing raillery of " Punch." Nor 
can the breathing thought and burning word of poet or 
orator have a higher inspiration. Genius is never so 
Promethean as when it bears the heavenly fire to the 
hearths of men. 

In the last age, Dr. Johnson uttered the detestable 



112 THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

sentiment, that lie liked " a good Hater." The man of 
this age will say that he likes " a good Lover." Thus 
reversing the objects of regard, he follows a higher wis- 
dom and a purer religion than the renowned moralist 
knew. He recognizes that peculiar Heaven-born senti- 
ment, the Brotherhood of Man, soon to become the de- 
cisive touchstone of human institutions. He confesses 
the power of Love, destined to enter more and more 
into the concerns of life. And as Love is more heaven- 
ly than Hate, so must its influence redound more to the 
true glory of man and the approval of God. A Chris- 
tian poet — whose few verses bear him with unflagging 
wing in immortal flight — has joined this sentiment 
with Prayer. Thus he speaks, in words of uncommon 
pathos and power : — 

" He prayeth well who loveth well 
Both man and bird and beast. 

" He prayeth best who loveth best 
All things, both great and small; 
For the dear God who loveth us, 
He made and loveth all." i 

The ancient Law of Hate is yielding to the Law of 
Love. It is seen in manifold labors of philanthropy 
and in missions of charity. It is seen in institutions 
for the insane, the blind, the deaf, the dumb, the poor, 
the outcast, — in generous efforts to relieve those who 
are in prison, — in public schools, opening the gates of 
knowledge to all the children of the land. It is seen in 
the diffusive amenities of social life, and in the increas- 
ing fellowship of nations ; also in the rising opposition 
to Slavery and to War. 

There are yet other special auguries of this great 

1 Coleridge, Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Part VH. 



THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 113 

change, auspicating, in ths natural progress of man, the 
abandonment of all international Preparations for War. 
To these I allude briefly, but with a deep conviction of 
their significance. 

Look at the Past, and see how War itself is changed, 
so that its oldest " fire-worshipper " would hardly know 
it. At first nothing but savagery, with disgusting rites, 
whether in the North American Indian with Powhatan 
as chief, or the earlier Assyrian with Nebuchadnezzar as 
king, but yielding gradually to the influence of civiKza- 
tion. With the Greeks it was less savage, but always 
barbarous, — also with Eome always barbarous. Too 
slowly Christianity exerted a humanizing power. Ka- 
belais relates how the friar Jean des Entommeures 
clubbed twelve thousand and more enemies, "without 
mentioning women and children, which is understood 
always." But this was War, as seen by that great ge- 
nius in his day. This can be no longer. Women and 
children are safe now. The divine metamorphosis has 
begun. 

Look again at the Past, and observe the change in 
dress. Down to a period quite recent the sword was the 
indispensable companion of the gentleman, wherever he 
appeared, whether in street or society ; but he would be 
deemed madman or bully who should wear it now. At 
an earher period the armor of complete steel was the 
habiliment of the knight. From the picturesque sketch 
by Sir Walter Scott, in the ".Lay of the Last Minstrel,"^ 
we learn the barbarous constraint of this custom. 

" Ten of them were sheathed in steel, 
With belted sword, and spur on heel ; 
They quitted not their harness bright, 
Neither by day nor yet by night : 
VOL. I. — 8 



114 THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

They lay down to rest 

With corslet laced, 
Pillowed on buckler cold and hard ; 

They carved at the meal 

With gloves of steel, 
And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred." 

But all this is changed now. 

Observe the change in architecture and in domestic 
life. Places once chosen for castles or houses were 
savage, inaccessible retreats, where the massive struc- 
ture was reared to repel attack and to enclose its in- 
habitants. Even monasteries and churches were forti- 
fied, and girdled by towers, ramparts, and ditches, — 
while a cliild was stationed as watchman, to observe 
what passed at a distance, and announce the approach of 
an enemy. Homes of peaceful citizens in towns were cas- 
tellated, often without so much as an aperture for light 
near the ground, but with loopholes through which the 
shafts of the crossbow were aimed. The colored plates 
now so common, from mediseval illustrations, especially 
of Froissart, exhibit these helligerent armaments, always 
so burdensome. From a letter of Margaret Paston, in 
the time of Henry the Sixth, of England, I draw sup- 
plementary testimony. Addressing in dutiful phrase 
her " right worshipful husband," she asks him to pro- 
cure for her " some crossbows, and wyndacs [grappling- 
irons] to bind them with, and quarrels [arrows with 
square heads]," also "two or three short pole-axes to 
keep within doors"; and she tells her absent lord of 
apparent preparations by a neighbor, — " great ord- 
nance within the house," " bars to bar the door cross- 
wise," and "wickets on every quarter of the house to 
shoot out at, both with bows and with hand-guns."^ 

1 Paston Letters, CXIII. (LXXVII. Vol. III. p. 315.) 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 115 

Savages could hardly live in greater distrust. Let now 
the Poet of Chivalry describe another scene : — 

" Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men, 
Waited the beck of the warders ten; 
Thirty steeds, both fleet and wight. 
Stood saddled in stable day and night, 
Barbed with frontlet of steel, I trow, 
And with Jedwood axe at saddle-bow; 
A hundred more fed free in stall : 
Such was the custom of Branksome Hall." 

This also is all changed now. 

The principles causing this change are not only ac- 
tive still, but increasing in activity ; nor can they be 
confined to individuals. Nations must soon declare 
them, and, abandoning martial habiliments and forti- 
fications, enter upon peaceful, unarmed life. With 
shame let it be said, that they continue to live in the 
very relations of distrust towards neighbors which 
shock us in the knights of Branksome Hall, and in the 
house of Margaret Paston. They pillow tliemselves on 
"buckler cold and hard," while their highest anxiety 
and largest expenditure are for the accumulation of new 
munitions of War. The barbarism which individuals 
have renounced nations still cherish. So doing, they take 
counsel of the wild-boar in the fable, who whetted his 
tusks on a tree of the forest when no enemy was near, 
saying, that in time of Peace he must prepare for War. 
Has not the time come, when man, whom God created 
in his own image, and to whom he gave the Heaven- 
directed countenance, shall cease to look down to the 
beast for an example of conduct ? Nay, let me not 
dishonor the beasts by the comparison. The superior 
animals, at least, prey not, like men, upon their own 
species. The kingly lion turns from his brother lion ; 



116 THE TEUE GKANDEUK OF NATIONS. 

the ferocious tiger will not raven upon his kindred 
tiger; the wild-boar of the forest does not glut his 
sharpened tusks upon a kindred boar. 

" Sed jam serpentum major concordia: parcit 
Cognatis maculis similis fera : quando leoni 
Fortior eripuit vitam leo ? quo nemore uiiquam 
Exspiravit aper majoris dentibus apri? 
Indica tigris agit rabida cum tigride ^acem 
Perpetuam." l 

To an early monarch of France just homage has been 
offered for effort in the cause of Peace, particularly in 
abolishing the Trial by Battle. To another monarch of 
France, in our own day, descendant of St. Louis, and 
lover of Peace worthy of the illustrious lineage, Louis 
Philippe, belongs the honest fame of first from the 
throne publishing the truth that Peace is endangered 
by Preparations for War. " The sentiment, or rather 
the principle," he says, in reply to an address from the 
London Peace Convention in 1843, "that in Peace you 
must prepare for War, is one of difficulty and danger ; 
for while we heep armies on land to ^preserve peace, they 
are at the same time incentives and instruments of war. 
He rejoiced in all efforts to preserve peace, for that was 
what all needed. He thought the time was coming when 
we should get rid entirely of war in all civilized coun- 
tries." This time has been hailed by a generous voice 
from the Army itself, by a Marshal of France, — Bu- 
geaud, the Governor of Algiers, — who, at a public dinner 
in Paris, gave as a toast these words of salutation to a 
new and approaching era of happiness : " To the pacific 
union of the great human family, by the association of 
individuals, nations, and races ! To the annihilation of 
War ! To the transformation of destructive armies into 

1 Juvenal, Sat. XV. 159-164. 



THE TRUE GEANDEUR OF NATIONS. 117 

corps of industrious laborers, who will consecrate their 
lives to the cultivation and embellishment of the 
world ! " Be it our duty to speed this consummation ! 
And may other soldiers emulate the pacific aspiration 
of this veteran chief, until the trade of War ceases from 
the earth ! ^ 

To William Penn belongs the distinction, destined to 
brighten as men advance in virtue, of first in human 
history establishing the Law of Love as a rule of conduct 
in the intercourse of nations. Wliile recognizing the 
duty " to support power in reverence with the people, 
and to secure the people from the abuse of power," ^ as a 
great end of government, he declined the superfluous 
protection of arms against foreign force, and aimed to 
" reduce the savage nations by just and gentle manners 
to the love of civil society and the Christian religion." 
His serene countenance, as he stands with his followers 
in what he called the sweet and clear air of Pemisyl- 
vania, all unarmed, beneath the spreading elm, forming 
the great treaty of friendship with the untutored Indi- 
ans, — whose savage display fills the surrounding forest 
as far as the eye can reach, — not to wrest their lands 
by violence, but to obtain them by peaceful purchase, 
— is to my mind the proudest picture in the history of 

1 There was a moment when the aspiration of the French marshal 
seemed fulfilled even in France, if we may credit the early j\Iadame de 
Lafayette, who, in the first sentence of her Memoirs, announces perfect 
tranquillity, where " no other arms were known than instruments for the 
cultivation of the earth and for building, and the troops were employed on 
these things." Part of their work was to divert the waters of the Eure, so 
that the fountains at Versailles should have a perpetual supply : but this 
was better than War. — Madame de Lafayette, Memoires de la Cour de 
France pour les Annees 1688 et 1689, p. 1. 

2 Preface to Penn's Frame of Government of the Province of Penn- 
sylvania: Hazard's Register of Pennsylvania, Vol. L p. 338. See also Clark- 
son's Memoirs of Penn, Vol. L p. 238, Philadelphia, 1814. 



118 THE TRUE GEANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

our country. "The great God," said tlie illustrious 
Quaker, in words of sincerity and truth addressed to 
the Sachems, " hath written his law in our hearts, by 
which we are taught and commanded to love and help 
and do good to one another. It is not our custom to 
use hostile weapons against our fellow-creatures, for 
which reason we come unarmed. Our object is not to 
do injury, but to do good. We are now met on the 
broad pathway of good faith and good will, so that no 
advantage is to be taken on either side, but all is to be 
openness, brotherhood, and love, while all are to be 
treated as of the same flesh and blood." ^ These are 
words of True G-reatness. " Without any carnal weapons," 
says one of his companions, " we entered the land, and 
inhabited therein, as safe as if there had been thousands 
of garrisons." What a sublime attestation ! " This 
little State," says Oldmixon, "subsisted in the midst 
of six Indian nations without so much as a militia 
for its defence." A great man worthy of the mantle of 
Penn, the venerable philanthropist, Clarkson, in his life 
of the founder, pictures the people of Pennsylvania as 
armed, though without arms, — strong, though without 
strength, — safe, without the ordinary means of safety. 
According to him, the constable's staff was the only in- 
strument of authority for the greater part of a cen- 
tury ; and never, during the administration of Penn, or 
that of his proper successors, was there a quarrel or a 
war.2 

Greater than the divinity that doth hedge a king is 
the divinity that encompasses the righteous man and 
the righteous people. The flowers of prosperity smiled 

1 Clarkson's Memoirs of Penn, Vol. I. Ch. 18. 

2 Ibid., Vol. II. Ch. 23. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 119 

in the footprints of "William Penn. His people were 
unmolested and happy, while (sad, but true contrast ! ) 
other colonies, acting upon the policy of the world, 
building forts, and showing themselves in arms, were 
harassed by perpetual alarm, and pierced by the sharp 
arrows of savage war. 

This pattern of a Christian commonwealth never fails 
to arrest the admiration of all who contemplate its 
beauties. It drew an epigram of eulogy from the caus- 
tic pen of Voltaire, and has been fondly painted by sym- 
pathetic historians. Every ingenuous soul in our day 
offers willing tribute to those graces of justice and hu- 
manity, by the side of which contemporary life on this 
continent seems coarse and earthy. 

Not to barren words can we confine ourselves in recog- 
nition of virtue. Wliile we see the right, and approve it 
too, we must dare to pursue it. Now, in this age of civ- 
ilization, surrounded by Christian nations, it is easy to 
follow the successful example of William Penn encom- 
passed by savages. Eecognizing those two transcend- 
ent ordinances of God, the Law of Right and the Law 
of Love, — twin suns which illumine the moral universe, 
— why not aspire to the true glory, and, what is higher 
than glory, the great good, of taking the lead in the dis- 
arming of the nations ? Let us abandon the system of 
Preparations for War in time of Peace, as irrational, un- 
christian, vainly prodigal of expense, and having a direct 
tendency to excite the evil against which it professes to 
guard. Let the enormous means thus released from 
iron hands be devoted to labors of beneficence. Our 
battlements shall be schools, hospitals, colleges, and 
churches ; our arsenals shall be libraries ; our navy shall 
be peaceful ships, on errands of perpetual commerce ; 



120 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS, 

OUT army shall be the teachers of youth and the minis- 
ters of religion. This is the cheap defence of nations. 
In such intrenchments what Christian soul can be 
touched with fear ? Angels of the Lord will throw 
over the land an invisible, but impenetrable panoply : — 

" Or if Virtue feeble were, 
Heaven itself would stoop to her." i 

At the thought of such a change, the imagination 
loses itseK in vain effort to foUow the multitudinous 
streams of happiness which gush forth from a thou- 
sand hills. Then shall the naked be clothed and the 
hungry fed; institutions of science and learning shall 
crown every hill-top ; hospitals for the sick, and other 
retreats for the unfortunate children of the world, for 
all who suffer in any way, in mind, body, or estate, 
shall nestle in every valley; while the spires of new 
churches leap exulting to the skies. The whole land 
shall testify to the change. Art shall confess it in the 
new inspiration of the canvas and the marble. The 

1 These are the concluding words of that most exquisite creation of early- 
genius, the " Comus." Beyond their intrinsic value, they have authority from 
the circumstance that they were adopted by Milton as a motto, and inscribed 
by him in an album at Geneva, while on his foreign travels. This album is 
now in my hands. The truth thus embalmed by the grandest poet of mod- 
em times is also illustrated in familiar words by the most graceful poet of 
antiquity : — 

" Integer vitse scelerisque purus 
Non eget Mauris jaculis, neque arcu, 
Nee venenatis gravida sagittis. 

Fusee, pharetra." 

HoR., Carm. I. xxil. 1-4. 

Drydei pictures the same in some of his most magical lines : — 

" A milk-white hind, immortal and unchanged, 
Fed on the lawns, and in the forest ranged ; 
Without unspotted, innocent within. 
She feared no danger, for she knew no sin." 

The Hind and the Panther, Part I. 1-4. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS, 121 

harp of the poet shall proclaim it in a loftiei rbjroie. 
Above aU, the heart of man shaU bear witness to it, in 
the elevation of his sentiments, in the expansion of his 
affections, in his devotion to the highest truth, in his 
appreciation of true greatness. The eagle of our coun- 
try, without the terror of his beak, and dropping the 
forceful thunderbolt from his pounces, shall soar, witli 
the olive of Peace, into untried realms of ether, nearer 
to the sun. 

I pause to review the field over which we have 
passed. We have beheld War, sanctioned by Inter- 
national Law as a mode of determining justice between 
nations, elevated into an established custom, defined and 
guarded by a complex code known as the Laws of War ; 
we have detected its origin in an appeal, not to the 
moral and intellectual part of man's nature, in which 
alone is Justice, but to that low part which he has in 
common with the beast ; we have contemplated its in- 
finite miseries to the human race ; we have weighed its 
sufficiency as a mode of determining justice between 
nations, and found that it is a rude invocation to force, 
or a gigantic game of chance, in which God's children 
are profanely treated as a pack of cards, while, in un- 
natural wickedness, it is justly likened to the monstrous 
and impious custom of Trial by Battle, which disgraced 
the Dark Ages, — thus showing, that, in this day of 
boastful civilization, justice between nations is deter- 
mined by the same rules of barbarous, brutal violence 
which once controlled the relations between individuals. 
We have next considered the various prejudices by 
which War is sustained, founded on a false belief in its 
necessity, — the practice of nations, past and present, — 



122 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

the infidelity of the Christian Church, — a mistaken 
sentiment of honor, — an exaggerated idea of the duties 
of patriotism, — and finally, that monster prejudice 
which draws its vampire life from the vast Prepara- 
tions for War in time of Peace ; — especially dwelling, 
at this stage, upon the thriftless, irrational, and un- 
christian character of these Preparations, — hailing also 
the auguries of their overthrow, — and catching a vision 
of the surpassing good that will be achieved, when the 
boundless means thus barbarously employed are dedi- 
cated to works of Peace, opening the serene path to 
that righteousness which exalteth a nation. 

And now, if it be asked why, in considering the true 
GRANDEUR OF NATIONS, I dwell thus singly and exclu- 
sively on "War, it is because War is utterly and irrecon- 
cilably inconsistent with True Greatness. Thus far, man 
has worshipped in Military Glory a phantom idol, com- 
pared with which the colossal images of ancient Baby- 
lon or modern Hindostan are but toys ; and we, in this 
favored land of freedom, in this blessed day of light, 
are among the idolaters. The Heaven-descended in- 
junction. Know thyself, still speaks to an unheeding 
world from the far-off letters of gold at Delphi : Know 
thyself ; know that the moral is the noblest part of man, 
transcending far that which is the seat of passion, strife, 
and War, — nobler than the intellect itself. And the 
human heart, in its untutored, spontaneous homage 
to the virtues of Peace, declares the same truth, — 
admonishing the military idolater that it is not the 
bloody combats, even of bravest chiefs, even of gods 
themselves, as they echo from the resounding lines of 
the great Poet of War, which receive the warmest ad- 



THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS, 123 

miration, but those two scenes where are painted the 
gentle, unwarlike affections of our nature, the Parting 
of Hector from Andromache, and the Supplication of 
Priam. In the definitive election of these peaceful 
pictures, the soul of man, inspired by a better wisdom 
than that of books, and drawn imconsciously by the 
heavenly attraction of what is truly great, acknowl- 
edges, in touching instances, the vanity of Military 
Glory. The Beatitudes of Christ, which shrink from 
saying, "Blessed are the War-makers," inculcate the 
same lesson. Eeason affirms and repeats what the 
heart has prompted and Christianity proclaimed. Sup- 
pose War decided by Force, where is the glory ? Sup- 
pose it decided by Chance, where is the glory ? Surely, 
in other ways True Greatness lies. Nor is it difficult 
to tell where. 

True Greatness consists in imitating, as nearly as pos- 
sible for finite man, the perfections of an Infinite Crea- 
tor, — above all, in cultivating those highest perfections. 
Justice and Love : Justice, which, like that of St. Louis, 
does not swerve to the right hand or to the left ; Love, 
which, like that of William Penn, regards all mankind 
as of kin. " God is angry," says Plato, " when any one 
censures a man like Himself, or praises a man of an 
opposite character: and the godlike man is the good 
man." ^ Again, in another of those lovely dialogues 
precious with immortal truth : " Nothing resembles God 
more than that man among us who has attained to the 
highest degree of justice." ^ The True Greatness of 
Nations is in those qualities which constitute the true 
greatness of the individual. It is not in extent of ter- 
ritory, or vastness of population, or accumulation of 

1 Minos, § 12. 2 Theaetetus, § 85. 



124 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

wealth, — not in fortifications, or armies, or navies, — 
not in the sulphurous blaze of battle, — not in Golgothas, 
though covered by monuments that kiss the clouds ; 
for all these are creatures and representatives of those 
qualities in our nature which are unlike anything in 
God's nature. Nor is it in triumphs of the intellect 
alone, — in literature, learning, science, or art. The 
polished Greeks, our masters in the delights of art, and 
the commanding Eomans, overawing the earth with 
their power, were little more than splendid savages. 
And the age of Louis the Fourteenth, of France, span- 
ning so long a period of ordinary worldly magnificence, 
thronged by marshals bending under military laurels, 
enlivened by the unsurpassed comedy of Moliere, dig- 
nified by the tragic genius of Corneille, illumined by 
the splendors of Bossuet, is degraded by immoralities 
that cannot be mentioned without a blush, by a heart- 
lessness in comparison with which the ice of Nova 
Zembla is warm, and by a succession of deeds of in- 
justice not to be washed out by the tears of all the re- 
cording angels of Heaven. 

The True Greatness of a Nation cannot be in tri- 
umphs of the intellect alone. Literature and art may 
enlarge the sphere of its influence ; they may adorn 
it ; but in their nature they are but accessaries. The 
True Grandeur of Humanity is in moral elevation, sus- 
tained, enlightened, and decorated hy the intellect of 
man. The surest tokens of this grandeur in a na- 
tion are that Christian Beneficence which diffuses the 
greatest happiness among all, and that passionless, 
godlike Justice which controls the relations of the 
nation to other nations, and to all the people committed 
to its charge. 



THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 125 

But War crushes with bloody heel all beneficence, all 
happiness, all justice, all that is godlike in man, — sus- 
pending every commandment of the Decalogue, setting 
at naught every principle of the Gospel, and silencing 
all law, human as well as divine, except only that im- 
pious code of its own, the Lmvs of War. If in its dis- 
mal annals there is any cheerful passage, be assured it 
is not inspired by a martial Fury. Let it not be for- 
gotten, let it be ever borne in mind, as you ponder this 
theme, that the virtues which shed their charm over its 
horrors are all borrowed of Peace, — that they are 
emanations from the Spirit of Love, which is so strong 
in the heart of man that it survives the rudest assault. 
The flowers of gentleness, kindliness, fidelity, humani- 
ty, which flourish imregarded in the rich meadows of 
Peace, receive unwonted admiration when we discern 
them in War, — like violets shedding their perfume on 
the perilous edge of the precipice, beyond the smiling 
borders of civilization. God be praised for all the ex- 
amples of magnanimous virtue which he has vouch- 
safed to mankind ! God be praised, that the Roman 
Emperor, about to start on a distant expedition of War, 
encompassed by squadrons of cavalry, and by" golden 
eagles swaying in the wind, stooped from his saddle to 
hear the prayer of a humble widow, demanding justice 
for the death of her son ! ^ God be praised, that Sid- 
ney, on the field of battle, gave with dying hand the cup 
of cold water to the dying soldier ! That single act of 

1 According to the legends of the Catholic Church, this most admired in- 
stance of justice opened to Trajan, although a heathen, the gates of salva- 
tion. Dante found the scene and the "visible speech" of the widow and 
Emperor storied on the walls of Purgatory, and has transmitted them in a 
passage which commends itself hardly less than any in the divine poem. — 
See Purgatorio, Canto X. 



126 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

self-forgetful sacrifice has consecrated the deadly field 
of Zutphen, far, oh, far beyond its battle ; it has conse- 
crated thy name, gallant Sidney, beyond any feat of thy 
sword, beyond any triumph of thy pen ! But there are 
lowly suppliants in other places than the camp ; there 
are hands outstretched elsewhere than on fields of blood. 
Everywhere is opportunity for deeds of like charity. 
Know well that these are not the product of War. 
They do not spring from enmity, hatred, and strife, but 
from those benign sentiments whose natural and ripened 
fruit of joy and blessing are found only in Peace. If at 
any time they appear in the soldier, it is less because 
than notwittistanding he is the hireling of battle. " Let 
me not be told, then, of the virtues of War. Let not 
the acts of generosity and sacrifice sometimes blossom- 
ing on its fields be invoked in its defence. From such 
a giant root of bitterness no true good can spring. The 
poisonous tree, in Oriental imagery, though watered 
by nectar and covered with roses, produces only the 
fruit of death. 

Casting our eyes over the history of nations, with 
horror we discern the succession of murderous slaugh- 
ters by which their progress is marked. Even as the 
hunter follows the wild beast to his lair by the drops 
of blood on the ground, so we follow Man, faint, weary, 
staggering with wounds, through the Black Forest of 
the Past, which he has reddened with his gore. Oh, let 
it not be in tlie future ages as in those we now contem- 
plate ! Let the grandeur of man be discerned, not in 
bloody victory or ravenous conquest, but in the bless- 
ings he has secured, in the good he has accomplished, 
in the triumphs of Justice and Beneficence, in the 
establishment of Perpetual Peace! 



THE TEUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 127 

As ocean washes every shore, and with all-em- 
bracing arms clasps every land, while on its heaving 
bosom it bears the products of various climes, so Peace 
surrounds, protects, and upholds all other blessings. 
Without it, commerce is vain, the ardor of industry is 
restrained, justice is arrested, happiness is blasted, vir- 
tue sickens and dies. 

Peace, too, has its own peculiar victories, in compari- 
son with which Marathon and Bannockburn and Bunker 
Hill, fields sacred in the history of human freedom, lose 
their lustre. Our own Washington rises to a truly 
heavenly stature, not when we foUow him through the 
ice of the DelaAvare to the capture of Trenton, not when 
we behold him ^dctorious over Cornwallis at Yorktown, 
but when we regard him, in noble deference to Justice, 
refusing the kingly crown which a faithless soldiery- 
proffered, and at a later day upholding the peaceful 
neutrality of the country, while he met uimaoved the 
clamor of the people wickedly crying for War. What 
glory of battle in England's annals will not fade by the 
side of that great act of justice, when her Parliament, at 
a cost of one hundred million dollars, gave freedom to 
eight hundred thousand slaves ? And when the day 
shall come (may these eyes be gladdened by its beams ! ) 
that shall witness an act of larger justice still, — the 
peaceful emancipation of three million fellow-men 
" guilty of a skin not colored as our own," now, in this 
land of jubilant freedom, bound in gloomy bondage, — 
then will there be a victory by the side of which that 
of Bunker Hill will be as the farthing candle held 
up to the Sim. That victory will need no monument 
of stone. It will be written on the grateful hearts of 
countless multitudes that shall proclaim it to the 



128 THE TKUE GKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

latest generation. It will be one of the famed land- 
marks of civilization, — or, better still, a link in tlie 
golden chain by wliich Humanity connects itself with 
the throne of God. 

As man is higher than the beasts of the field, as the 
angels are higher than man, as Christ is higher than 
Mars, as he that ruleth his spirit is higher than he that 
taketh a city, — so are the victories of Peace higher than 
the victories of War. 

Far be from us, fellow-citizens, on this festival, the 
pride of national victory, and the illusion of national 
freedom, in which we are too prone to indulge ! None 
of you make rude boast of individual prosperity or 
prowess. And here I end as I began. Our country 
cannot do what an individual cannot do. Therefore it 
must not vaunt or be puffed up. Eather bend to un- 
performed duties. Independence is not all. We have 
but haK done, when we have made ourselves free. The 
scornful taunt wrung from bitter experience of the great 
Eevolution in France must not be levelled at us : " They 
wish to be free,, but know not how to be just" ^ Nor 
is priceless Freedom an end in itself, but rather the 
means of Justice and Beneficence, where alone is en- 
during concord, with that attendant happiness which 
is the final end and aim of Nations, as of every human 
heart. It is not enough to be free. There must be 
Peace which cannot fail, and other nations must share 
the great possession. For this good must we labor, bear- 
ing ever in mind two special objects, complements of 
each other : first, the Arbitrament of War must end ; and, 

1 '■'■Us veulent etre libres, et ne savent pas etre j'ustes," was the famous ex- 
clamation of Siey6s. 



THE TRUE GRAIJDEUR OF NATIONS. 129 

secondly. Disarmament must begin. With this ending 
and this beginning the great gates of the Future will be 
opened, and the guardian virtues will assert a new 
empire. Alas ! until this is done, National Honor and 
National Glory will yet longer ilaunt in blood, and there 
can be no True Grandeur of Nations. 

To this great work let me siunmon you. That Fu- 
ture, which filled the lofty vision of sages and bards in 
Greece and Eome, which was foretold by Prophets and 
heralded by Evangelists, when man, in Happy Isles, or 
in a new Paradise, shall confess the loveliness of Peace, 
may you secure, if not for yourselves, at least for your 
children ! Believe that you can do it, and you can do it. 
The true Golden Age is before, not behind. If man has 
once been driven from Paradise, while an angel with 
flaming sword forbade his return, there is another Para- 
dise, even on earth, which he may make for himself, 
by the cultivation of knowledge, religion, and the kindly 
virtues of life, — where the confusion of tongues shall 
be dissolved in the union of hearts, and joyous Nature, 
borrowing prolific charms from prevailing Harmony, 
shall spread her lap with unimagined bounty, and 
there shall be perpetual jocund Spring, and sweet strains 
borne on " the odoriferous wing of gentle gales," through 
valleys of delight more pleasant than the Vale of Tempe, 
richer than the Garden of the Hesperides, with no dragon 
to guard its golden fruit. 

Is it said that the age does not demand this work ? 
The robber conqueror of the Past, from fiery sepulchre, 
demands it ; the precious blood of millions unjustly 
shed in War, crying from the ground, demands it ; the 
heart of the good man demands it ; the conscience, 
€ven of the soldier, whispers, " Peace ! " There are 

VOL. I. — 9 



130 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

considerations springing from our situation and con- 
dition which fervently invite us to take the lead. 
Here should joiji the patriotic ardor of the land, the 
ambition of the statesman, the effort of the scholar, the 
pervasive influence of the press, the mild persuasion of 
the sanctuary, the early teaching of the school. Here, 
in ampler ether and diviner air, are untried fields 
for exalted trixunph, more truly worthy the American 
name than any snatched from rivers of blood. War 
is known as the Last Reason of Kings. Let it be no 
reason of our Eepublic. Let us renounce and throw 
off forever the yoke of a tyranny most oppressive 
of all in the world's annals. As those standing on 
the mountain-top first discern the coming beams of 
morning, so may we, from the vantage-ground of lib- 
eral institutions, first recognize the ascending sun of 
a new era ! Lift high the gates, and let the King 
of Glory in, — the King of True Glory, — of Peace ! 
I catch the last words of music from the lips of in- 
nocence and beauty,^ — 

" And let the whole earth be filled with His Glory ! " 

It is a beautiful picture in Grecian story, that there 
was at least one spot, the small island of Delos, dedi- 
cated to the gods, and kept at all times sacred from 
War. No hostile foot ever pressed this kindly soil, 
and citizens of all countries met here, in common 
worship, beneath the segis of inviolable Peace. So let 
us dedicate our beloved country ; and may the blessed 
consecration be felt in all its parts, everywhere through- 
out its ample domain ! The Temple of Honor shall 

1 The services of the choir on this occasion were performed by the youth- 
fill daughters of the public schools of Boston. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 131 

be enclosed by the Temple of Concord, that it may 
never more be entered through any portal of War; 
the horn of Abundance shall overflow at its gates ; 
the angel of Eeligion shall be the guide over its steps 
of flashing adamant ; w^hile witliin its happy courts, 
purged of Violence and Wrong, Justice, returned to 
the earth from long exile in the skies, with equal 
scales for nations as for men, shall rear her serene 
and majestic front ; and by her side, greatest of all. 
Charity, sublime in meekness, hoping all and en- 
during all, shall divinely temper every righteous 
decree, and with words of infinite cheer inspire 
to those deeds that cannot vanish away. And the 
future chief of the Eepublic, destined to uphold the 
glories of a new era, unspotted by human blood, 
shall be first in Peace, first in the hearts of his coun- 
trymen. 

While seeking these fruitful glories for ourselves, let 
us strive for their extension to other lands. Let the 
bugles sound the Truce of God to the whole world for- 
ever. Not to one people, but to every people, let the 
glad tidings go. The selfish boast of the Spartan women, 
that they never saw the smoke of an enemy's camp, 
must become the universal chorus of mankind, while 
the iron belt of War, now encompassing the globe, is 
exchanged for the golden cestus of Peace, clothing all 
with celestial beauty. History dwells with fondness on 
the reverent homage bestowed by massacring soldiers 
upon the spot occupied by the sepulchre of the Lord. 
Vain man ! why confine regard to a few feet of sa- 
cred mould ? The whole earth is the sepulchre of the 
Lord; nor can any righteous man profane any part 
thereof. Confessing this truth, let us now, on this Sab- 



132 THE TRUE GEANDEUE OF NATIONS. 

bath of the Nation, lay a new and living stone in the 
grand Temple of Universal Peace, whose dome shall be 
lofty as the firmament of heaven, broad and compre- 
hensive as earth itseK. 



TRIBUTE OF FRIENDSHIP: 
THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 

Article feom the Boston Daily Advertiser, September 16, 1845. 



I HAVE just returned from the funeral of this great 
and good man. Under that roof where I have so 
often seen him in health, buoyant with life, exuberant in 
kindness, happy in family and friends, I stood by his 
mortal remains sunk in eternal rest, and gazed upon those 
well-loved features from which even the icy touch of 
death had not effaced all the living beauty. The eye was 
quenched, and the glow of life extinguished; but the 
noble brow seemed still to shelter, as under a marble 
dome, the spirit that had iled. And is he dead, I asked 
myseK, — whose face was never turned to me, except in 
affection, — who has filled the civilized world with his 
name, and drawn to his country the homage of foreign 
nations, — who was of activity and labor that knew no 
rest, — • who was connected with so many circles by 
duties of such various kinds, by official ties, by sym- 
pathy, by friendship and love, — who, according to the 
beautiful expression of Wilberforce, " touched life at so 
many points," — has he, indeed, passed away? Upon 
the small plate on the coffin was inscribed, Joseph 
Story, died September 10th, 1845, aged 66 years. 
These few words might apply to the lowly citizen, as to 



134 TEIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 

the illustrious Judge. Thus is the cof&n-plate a register 
of the equality of men. 

At his well-known house we joined in religious wor- 
ship. The Eev. Dr. Walker, present head of the Uni- 
versity, in earnest prayer, commended his soul to God 
who gave it, and invoked upon family and friends a 
consecration of their afflictive bereavement. From this 
service we followed, in mournful procession, to the rest- 
ing-place which he had selected for himself and his 
family, amidst the beautiful groves of Mount Auburn. 
As the procession filed into the cemetery I was moved 
by the sight of the numerous pupils of the Law School, 
with uncovered heads and countenances of sorrow, 
ranged on each side of the road within the gate, testify- 
ing by silent and unexpected homage their last rever- 
ence to their departed teacher. Around the grave, as 
he was laid in the embrace of the mother earth, were 
gathered all in our community most distinguished in 
law, learning, literature, station, — Judges of our Courts, 
Professors of the University, surviving classmates, and 
a thick cluster of friends. He was placed among the 
children taken from liim in early life. Of such is the 
Tcingdom of heaven were the words he had inscribed 
over their names on the simple marble which now com- 
memorates alike the children and their father. Nor is 
there a child in heaven of more childlike innocence and 
purity than he, who, full of years and honors, has gone 
to mingle with these children. 

There is another sentence, inscribed by him on this 
family stone, which speaks to us now with a voice of 
consolation. Sorrow not as those without hope were 
the words which brought solace to him in his bereave- 
ments. From his bed beneath he seems to whisper thus 



TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 135 

among his mourning family and friends, — most espe- 
cially to her, the chosen partner of his life, from whom 
so much of human comfort is apparently removed. He 
is indeed gone ; but we shall see him once more forever. 
With this blessed trust, we may find happiness in 
dwelling upon his vu-tues and fame on earth, till the 
great consoler, Time, shall come with healing in his wings. 

From the grave of the Judge I walked a few short 
steps to that of his classmate and friend, the beloved 
Channing, who died less than three years ago, aged 
sixty-two. Thus these companions in early studies — 
each afterwards foremost in important duties, pursuing 
divergent paths, yet always drawn towards each other 
by the attractions of mutual friendsliip — again meet 
and lie down together in the same sweet earth, in the 
shadow of kindred trees, through which the same birds 
sing a perpetual requiem. 

The afternoon was of unusual brilliancy, and the full- 
orbed sun gilded with mellow light the funereal stones 
through wliich I wound my way, as I sought the grave 
of another friend, the first colleague of the departed 
Judge in the duties of the Law School, — Professor 
Ashmun. After a life crowded with usefulness, he laid 
down the burden of disease which he had long borne, 
at the early age of thirty-three. I remember listening, 
in 1833, to the flomng discourse which Story pro- 
nounced, in the College Chapel, over the departed ; nor 
can I forget his deep emotion, as we stood together at 
the foot of the grave, while the earth fell, dust to dust, 
upon the coffin of his friend. 

Wandering through tliis silent city of the dead, I 
called to mind those words of Beaumont on the Tombs 
in Westminster Abbey : — 



136 TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 

" Here 's an acre sown indeed 
With the richest, royal'st seed 
That the earth did e'er suck in 
Since the first man died for sin; 
Here are sands, ignoble things 
Dropt from the ruined sides of kings." 

A richer royalty is sown at Mount Auburn. The kings 
that slumber there were anointed by more than earth- 
ly hand. 

Turning again to the newest grave, I found no one 
but the humble gardeners, smoothing the sod over the 
fresh earth. It was late in the afternoon, and the upper 
branches of the stately trees that wave over the sacred 
spot, after glistening for a while in the golden rays of 
the setting sun, were left in the gloom which had already 
settled on the grass beneath. Hurrying away, I reached 
the gate as the porter's curfew was tolling to forgetful 
musers like myself the warning to leave. 

Moving away from the consecrated field, I thought 
of the pilgrims that would come from afar, through 
successions of generations, to look upon the last home 
of the great Jurist. From all parts of our own coun- 
try, from all the lands where law is taught as a science, 
and where justice prevails, they will come to seek the 
grave of their master. Let us guard, then, this precious 
dust. Let us be happy, that, though his works and his 
example belong to the world, his remains are placed in 
our peculiar care. To us, also, who saw him face to 
face, in the performance of his various duties, and who 
sustain a loss so irreparable, is the melancholy pleasure 
of dwelling with household affection upon his surpass- 
ing excellences. 

His death makes a chasm which I shrink from con- 
templating. He was the senior Judge of the highest 
Court of the country, an active Professor of Law, and 



TKIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 137 

a Fellow in the Corporation of Harvard University, 
He was in himself a whole triumvirate ; and these three 
distinguished posts, now vacant, will be filled, in all 
probability, each by a distinct successor. It is, how- 
ever, as the Jurist that he is to take his place in the his- 
tory of the world, high in the same firmament where 
beam the mild glories of Tribonian, Cujas, Hale, and 
Mansfield. It was his fortune, unhke that of many 
cultivating the law with signal success on the European 
continent, to be called as a judge pmctically to adminis- 
ter and apply it in the business of Hfe. It thus became 
to him not merely a science, whose depths and intrica- 
cies he explored in his closet, but a great and godlike 
instrument, to be employed in that grandest of earth- 
ly functions, the determination of justice among men. 
While the duties of the magistrate were thus illumined 
by the studies of the jurist, the latter were tempered 
to a finer edge by the exjDerience of the bench. 

In the attempt to estimate his character as a Jurist, 
he may be regarded in three different aspects, — as 
Judge, Author, and Teacher of Jurisprudence, exercis- 
ing in each a peculiar influence. His lot is rare who 
achieves fame in any single department of human ac- 
tion ; rarer still is his who becomes foremost in many. 
The first impression is of astonishment, that a single 
mind, in a single Hfe, should accomplish so much. 
Omitting the incalculable labors, of which there is no 
trace, except in the knowledge, happiness, and justice 
they helped to secure, the bare amount of his written 
and printed works is enormous beyond precedent in the 
annals of the Common Law. His written judgments 
on his circuit, and his various commentaries, occupy 
twenty-seven volumes, while his judgments in the Su- 



138 TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY, 

preme Court of the United States form an important 
part of no less than thirty-four volumes more. The 
vast professional labors of Coke and Eldon, which seem 
to clothe the walls of our libraries, must yield to his in 
extent. He is the Lope de Vega, or the Walter Scott, 
of the Common Law. 

We are struck next by the universality of his juridical 
attainments. It was said by Dryden of a great lawyer 
in English history, — Heneage Finch, — 

" Our laws, that did a boundless ocean seem, 
Were coasted all and fathomed all by him." 

But the boundless ocean of that age was a " closed sea," 
compared with that on which the adventurer embarks 
to-day. In Howell's Familiar Letters there is a saying 
of only a few short years before, that the books of the 
Common Law might all be carried in a wheelbarrow. 
To coast such an ocean were a less task than a moiety 
of his labors whom we now mourn. Called to admin- 
ister all the different branches of law, kept separate in 
England, he showed a mastery of all. His was Univer- 
sal Empire ; and wherever he set his foot, in the various 
realms of jurisprudence, it was as a sovereign, — whether 
in the ancient and subtile learning of Pteal Law, — the 
Criminal Law, — the niceties of Special Pleading, — the 
more refined doctrines of Contracts, — the more rational 
system of Commercial and Maritime Law, — the peculiar 
and interesting principles and practice of Admiralty and 
Prize, — the immense range of Chancery, — the modern, 
but important, jurisdiction over Patents, — or that high- 
er region, the great themes of Public and Constitutional 
Law. In each of these branches there are judgments 
by him which will not yield in value to those of any 
other judge in England or the United States, even though 



TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY, 139 

his studies and duties may have been directed to only- 
one particular department. 

His judgments are remarkable for exhaustive treat- 
ment. The Common Law, as every student knows to his 
cost, is found only in innumerable " sand-grains " of au- 
thority. In his learned expositions not one of these is 
overlooked, while all are combined with care, and the 
golden cord of reason is woven across the ample tissue. 
There is in them, besides, a clearness which flings over 
the subject a perfect day, — a severe logic, which, by its 
closeness and precision, makes us feel the truth of the 
saying of Leibnitz, that nothing approaches so near the 
certainty of geometry as the reasoning of the law, — 
a careful attention to the discussions at the bar, that 
nothing should be lost, — with a copious and persuasive 
eloquence investing the whole. Many of his judgments 
will be landmarks in the law : I know of no single 
judge who has set up so many. I think it may be said, 
without fear of question, that the Eeports show a larger 
number of judicial opinions from Story, wliich posterity 
will not willingly let die, than from any other judge in 
the history of English or American law. 

There is much of his character as a Judge which 
cannot be preserved, except in the faithful memory of 
those whose happiness it was to enjoy his judicial pres- 
ence. I refer particularly to his mode of conducting 
business. Even the passing stranger bore witness to 
his suavity of manner on the bench, while all practi- 
tioners in the courts where he presided so long attest 
the marvellous quickness with wliich he seized habit- 
ually the points of a case, often anticipating the slower 
movements of counsel, and leaping, or, I might almost 
say, flying, to the proper conclusion. Napoleon's percep- 



140 TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STOKY. 

tion, at the head of an army, was not more rapid. Nor 
can I forget the scrupulous care with which he assigned 
reasons for every portion of his opinions, showing that 
it was not he who spoke with the voice of authority, but 
the law, whose organ he was. 

In the history of the English bench there are but two 
names with combined eminence as Judge and Author, 
— Coke and Hale, — unless, indeed, the " Ordinances 
in Chancery," from the Verulamian pen, should entitle 
Lord Bacon to this distinction, and the judgments of 
Lord Brougham should vindicate the same for him. 
Blackstone's character as judge is lost in the fame of 
the Commentaries. To Story belongs this double glory. 
Early in life he compiled an important professional 
work ; but it was only at a comparatively recent period, 
after his mind had been disciplined by the labors of the 
bench, that he prepared those elaborate Commentaries 
which have made his name a familiar word in foreign 
countries. They who knew him best observed the 
lively interest which he took in this extension of his 
renown. And most justly ; for the voice of distant 
foreign nations comes as from a living posterity. His 
works have been reviewed with praise in the journals 
of England, Scotland, Ireland, France, and Germany. 
They are cited as authorities in aU the Courts of West- 
minster Hall ; and one of the ablest and most learned 
jurists of the age, whose honorable career at the bar has 
opened to him the peerage, — Lord Campbell, — in the 
course of debate in the House of Lords, accorded to 
their author an exalted place, saying that he " had a 
greater reputation as a legal writer than any author Eng- 
land could boast since the days of Blackstone." ^ 

1 Hansard, LXVTII. 667. 



TEIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STOKY. 141 

To complete this hasty survey, I should allude to his 
excellences as a Teacher of law, that other relation 
which he sustained to jurisprudence. The numerous 
pupils reared at his feet, and now scattered through- 
out the country, diffusing, in their different circles, the 
light obtained at Cambridge, as they hear that their be- 
loved master has fallen, will each feel that he has lost 
a friend. He had the faculty, rare as it is exquisite, of 
interesting the young, and winning their affections. I 
have often seen him surrounded by a group of youths, 

— the ancient Eomans- might have aptly called it a 
corona, — all intent upon his earnest conversation, and 
freely interrogating him on matters of interest. In his 
lectures, and other forms of instruction, he was prodigal 
of explanation and illustration ; his manner, according 
to the classical image of Zeno, was like the open palm, 
never like the clenched fist. His learning was always 
overflowing, as from the horn of abundance. He was 
earnest and unrelaxing in effort, patient and gentle, 
while he listened with inspiring attention to all that the 
pupil said. Like Chaucer's Clerk, 

" And gladly wolde he leme, and gladly teche." 

Above all, he was a living example of love for the 
law, — supposed by many to be unlovely and repulsive, 

— which seemed to grow warmer under the snows of 
accumulating winters ; and such an example could not 
fail, with magnetic power, to touch the hearts of the 
young. Nor should I forget the lofty standard of pro- 
fessional morals which he inculcated, filling his discourse 
with the charm of goodness. Under such auspices, and 
those of his learned associate. Professor Greenleaf, large 
classes of students, larger than any other in America, 



142 TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STOEY. 

or in England, were annually gathered in Cambridge. 
The Law School became the glory of the University, 

He was proud of his character as Professor. In his 
earlier works he is called on the title-page " Dane Pro- 
fessor of Law." It was only on the suggestion of the 
Enghsh publisher that he was induced to append 
the other title, " One of the Justices of the Supreme 
Court of the United States." He looked forward with 
peculiar satisfaction to the time which seemed at hand, 
when he shoiild lay down the honors and cares of the 
bench, and devote himself singly to the duties of his 
chair, 

I have merely glanced at him in his three several 
relations to jurisprudence. Great in each, it is on this 
unprecedented combination that his peculiar fame will 
be reared, as upon an immortal tripod. In what I have 
written, I do not think I am biased by partialities of pri- 
vate friendship. I have endeavored to regard him as 
posterity will regard him, as all must regard him now 
who fully know him in his works. Imagine for one 
moment the irreparable loss, if all that he has done 
were blotted out forever. As I think of the incalculable 
facilities afforded by his labors, I cannot but say with 
Eaciae, when speaking of Descartes, "Nous courons ; 
mais, sans lui, nous ne marcherions pas." Besides, it is he 
who has inspired in many foreign bosoms, reluctant to 
perceive good in our country, a sincere homage to the 
American name. He has turned the stream refluent 
upon the ancient fountains of Westminster Hall, and, 
stranger still, has forced the waters above their sources, 
up the unaccustomed heights of countries alien to the 
Common Law. It is he also who has directed, from the 
copious well-springs of Roman Law, and from the fresher 



TKIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STOKY. 143 

currents of modern Continental Law, a pure and grateful 
stream to enrich and fertilize our domestic jurisprudence. 
In his judgments, his books, and his teachings, he drew 
always from other systems to illustrate the Common 
Law. 

The mind naturally seeks to compare him with emi- 
nent jurists, servants of Themis, who share with him the 
wide spaces of fame. In genius for the law, in the ex- 
ceeding usefulness of his career, in the blended charac- 
ter of Judge and Author, he cannot yield to our time- 
honored master. Lord Coke ; in suavity of manner, and 
in silver-tongued eloquence, he may compare with Lord 
Mansfield, while in depth, accuracy, and variety of ju- 
ridical learning he surpassed him far ; if he yields to 
Lord Stowell in elegance of diction, he exceeds even his 
excellence in curious exploration of the foundations of 
that jurisdiction which they administered in common, 
and in the development of those great principles of pub- 
lic law whose just determination helps to preserve the 
peace of nations ; and even in the peculiar field illus- 
trated by the long career of Eldon, we find him a famil- 
iar worker, with Eldon's profusion of learning, and with- 
out the perplexity of his doubts. There are many who 
regard the judicial character of the late Chief Justice 
Marshall as unapproachable. I revere his name, and 
have read his judgments, which seem like " pure rea- 
son," with admiration and gratitude ; but I cannot dis- 
guise that even these noble memorials must yield in 
juridical character, learning, acuteness, fervor, variety of 
topics, as they are far inferior in amount, to those of our 
friend. There is still spared to us a renowned judge, at 
this moment the unquestioned living head of American 
jurisprudence, with no rival near the throne, — Chancel- 



144 TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 

lor Kent, — whose judgments and works always inspired 
the warmest eulogy of the departed, and whose charac- 
ter as a jurist furnishes the fittest parallel to his own in 
the annals of our law. 

It seems idle to weave further these vain comparisons, 
particularly to invoke the living. But busy fancy re- 
vives the past, and persons and scenes renew themselves 
in my memory. I caU to mind the recent Chancellor 
of England, the model of a clear, grave, learned, and 
conscientious magistrate, — Lord Cottenham. I see 
again the ornaments of Westminster Hall, on the bench 
and at the bar, where sits Denman, in manner, conduct, 
and character " every inch " the judge, — where pleaded 
the consummate lawyer, Follett, whose voice is now 
hushed in the grave ; their judgments, their arguments, 
their conversation I cannot forget; but thinking of 
these, I feel new pride in the great Magistrate, the just 
Judge, the consummate Lawyer whom we lament. 

It has been my fortune to know the chief jurists of 
our time, in the classical countries of jurisprudence, 
France and Germany. I remember well the pointed 
and effective style of Dupin, in one of his masterly ar- 
guments before the highest court of France ; I recall 
the pleasant converse of Pardessus — to whom commer- 
cial and maritime law is under a larger debt, perhaps, 
than to any other mind — while he descanted on his 
favorite theme ; I wander in fancy to the gentle pres- 
ence of him with flowing silver locks who was so dear 
to Germany, — Thibaut, the expounder of Eoman law, 
and the earnest and successful advocate of a just 
scheme for the reduction of the unwritten law to the 
certainty of a written text ; from Heidelberg I pass to 
Berlin, where I listen to the grave lecture and mingle 



TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 145 

in the social circle of Savigny, so stately in person and 
peculiar in countenance, whom all the continent of Eu- 
rope delights to honor ; but my heart and my judgment, 
untravelled, fondly turn with new love and admiration 
to my Cambridge teacher and friend. Jurisprudence 
has many arrows in her quiver, but where is one to 
compare with that which is now spent in the earth ? 

The fame of the Jurist is enhanced by various at- 
tainments superinduced upon learning in the law. His 
" Miscellaneous Writings " show a thoughtful mind, 
imbued with elegant literature, warm with kindly senti- 
ments, commanding a style of rich and varied eloquence. 
Many passages from these have become commonplaces 
of our schools. In early life he yielded to the fasci- 
nations of the poetic muse ; and here the great law- 
yer may find companionship with Selden, who is in- 
troduced by Suckling into the " Session of the Poets " 
as " hard by the chair," — with Blackstone, whose " Fare- 
well to his Muse " shows his fondness for poetic pas- 
tures, even while his eye was directed to the heights of 
the law, — and also with Mansfield, whom Pope has 
lamented in familiar words, 

" How sweet an Ovid Murray ! was our boast." 

I have now before me, in his own handwriting, some 
verses written by him in 1833, entitled, "Advice to a 
Young Lawyer." As they cannot fail to be read with 
interest, I introduce them here. 

" Whene'er you speak, remember every cause 
Stands not on eloquence, but stands on laws ; 
Pregnant in matter, in expression brief, 
Let every sentence stand with bold relief; 
On trifling points nor time nor talents waste, 
A sad offence to learning and to taste ; 
VOL. I. — 10 



146 TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STOKY. 

Nor deal with pompous phrase, nor e'er suppose 
Poetic flights belong to reasoning prose. 
Loose declamation may deceive the crowd, 
And seem more striking as it grows more loud; 
But sober sense rejects it with disdain, 
As naught but empty noise, and weak as vain. 
The froth of words, the schoolboy's vain parade 
Of books and cases (all his stock in trade). 
The pert conceits, the cunning tricks and play 
Of low attorneys, strung in long array, 
The unseemly jest, the petulant reply. 
That chatters on, and cares not how nor why. 
Studious, avoid : unworthy themes to scan, 
They sink the speaker and disgrace the man ; 
Like the false lights by flying shadows cast. 
Scarce seen when present, and forgot when past. 

" Begin with dignity ; expound with grace 
Each ground of reasoning in its time and place; 
Let order reign throughout ; each topic touch. 
Nor urge its power too little or too much ; 
Give each strong thought its most attractive view, 
In diction clear, and yet severely true ; 
And as the arguments in splendor grow, 
Let each reflect its light on all below. 
When to the close arrived, make no delays 
By petty flourishes or verbal plays. 
But sum the whole in one deep, solemn strain, 
Like a strong current hastening to the; main'." 

But the jurist, ricli witli the spoils of time, the ex- 
alted magistrate, the orator, the writer, all vanish when 
I think of the friend. Much as the world may admire 
his memory, all who knew him will love it more. Who 
can forget his bounding step, his contagious laugh, his 
exhilarating voice, his beaming smile, his countenance 
that shone like a benediction ? What pen can describe 
these ? Wliat canvas or marble can portray them ? He 
was always the friend of the young, who never tired in 
listening to his mellifluous discourse. Nor did they 
ever leave his presence without a warmer glow of virtue. 



TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 147 

a more inspiring love of knowledge, and more generous 
impulses of action. I remember him in my childhood ; 
but I first knew him after he came to Cambridge as 
Professor, while I was yet an undergraduate, and now 
recall freshly, as if the words were of yesterday, the 
eloquence and animation with which at that time he 
enforced upon a youthful circle the beautiful truth, that 
no man stands in the way of another. The world is 
wide enough for all, he said, and no success which may 
crown our neighbor can affect our own career. In this 
spirit he ran his race on earth, without jealousy, without 
envy, — nay, more, overflowing with appreciation and 
praise of labors which compared humbly with his own. 
In conversation he dwelt with fervor upon all the top- 
ics which interest man, — not only upon law, but upon 
literature, history, human character, the affairs of every 
day, — above all, upon the great duties of life, the rela- 
tions of men to each other, to country, to God. High 
in his mind, above all human opinions and practices, 
were the everlasting rules of Bight ; nor did he ever 
rise to truer eloquence than when condemning, as I 
have more than once heard him recently, that evil sen- 
timent, " Our country, right or wrong" which, in what- 
soever form of language it may disguise itself, assails 
the very foundations of justice and virtue. 

He was happy in life, happy also in death. It was 
his hope, expressed in health, that he should not be 
allowed to linger superfluous on the stage, nor waste 
under the slow progress of disease. He was always 
ready to meet his God. His wishes were answered. 
Two days before his last illness he was in court, and 
delivered an elaborate judgment on a complicated case 
in equity. Since his death another judgment in a case 



148 TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 

already argued before him has been found among his 
papers, ready to be pronounced. 

I saw him for a single moment on the evening pre- 
ceding his illness. It was an accidental meeting away 
from his own house, — the last time that the open air 
fanned his cheeks. His words of familiar, household 
greeting still linger in my ears, like an enchanted mel- 
ody. The morning sun saw him on the bed from which 
he never rose. 

Thus closed, after an illness of eight days, in the 
bosom of his family, without pain, surrounded by 
friends, a life which, through various vicissitudes of 
disease, had been spared beyond the grand climacteric, 
that Cape of Storms in the sea of human existence. 

" Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit, 
Nulli flebilior quam mihi." 

He is gone, and we shall see liim no more on earth, 
except in his works, and the memory of his virtues. 
The scales of justice, which he so long held, have fallen 
from his hand. The untiring pen of the Author rests 
at last. The voice of the Teacher is mute. The foun- 
tain, which was ever flowing and ever full, is stopped. 
The lips, on which the bees of Hybla might have rested, 
will no more distil their honeyed sweets. The manly 
form, warm with all the affections of life, with love for 
family and friends, for truth and virtue, is now cold in 
death. The justice of nations is eclipsed ; the life of 
the law is suspended. But let us listen to the words 
which, though dead, he utters from the grave : " Sorrow 
not as those without hope." The righteous judge, the 
wise teacher, the faithful friend, the loving father, has 
ascended to his Judge, his Teacher, his Friend, his 
Father in Heaven. 



THE WRONG OF SLAVERY. 

Speech at a Public Meeting in Faneuil Hall, Boston, against 

THE Admission of Texas as a Slave State, 

November 4, 1845. 



The officers of this meeting were Hon. Charles Francis Adams, Presi- 
dent ; James M. Whiten, Charles G. Hovey, and William I. Bowditch, 
Secretaries. The President made a speech on taking the chair. He 
was followed by Hon. John G. Palfrey, Charles Sumner, Wendell 
Phillips, Henry B. Stanton, George S. Hillard, Rev. William H. Chan- 
ning, and William Lloyd Garrison. The meeting was thus sympatheti- 
cally described by the Liberator : — 

" Faneuil Hall next had a meeting, more worthy of its fame than the 
one which was held in it on Tuesday evening last, to set the ball in mo- 
tion for another grand rally of the freemen of the North against the ad- 
mission of Texas into the Union as a Slave State. The weather was ex- 
tremely unpropitious, — the rain pouring down violently, the thunder 
roaring, and the lightning blazing vividly at intervals, — emblematic of 
the present moral and political aspects of the country." 

The Daily Times, a democratic paper of Boston, in its account of 
the meeting made the severe storm play an important part. Here is 
something of what it said : — 

" The elements seemed determined not to sanction any such traitor- 
like movement, and interposed every obstacle to its success. It was 
proper that such afoul project should have foul weather as an accompa- 
niment. The night was dark, and so were the designs contemplated." 
To oppose the extension of slavery was traitor-like, foul, and dark. 

The Resolutions adopted at the meeting were drawn by Mr. Sumner, 
although introduced by another. They were the first political resolutions 
ever drawn by him, as the speech which follows was the first political 
speech ever made by him. The Resolutions, while condemning slavery 
and denouncing the plan to secure its predominance in the National 
Government, start with the annunciation of Equal Rights and the 



150 THE WEONG OF SLAVERY. 

Brothei-hood of all Men, as set forth in the Declaration of Independence, 
■which Mr. Sumner always, from beginning to end, made the founda- 
tion of his arguments, appeals, and aspirations. 

" Whereas the Government and Independence of the United States are 
founded on the adamantine truth of Equal Rights and the Brotherhood of 
all Men, declared on the 4th of July, 1776, a tnith receiving new and con- 
stant recognition in the progi-ess of time, and which is the great lesson 
from our country to the world, in support of which the founders toiled and 
bled, and on account of which we, their children, bless their memory, — 

'''' And whereas it is essential to our self-respect as a nation, and to our 
fame in history, that this truth, declared by our fathers, should not be im- 
peached or violated by any fresh act of their children, — 

" And whereas the scheme for the annexation of Texas as a Slave State, be- 
gun in stealth and fraud, and carried on to confirm Slavery and extend its 
bounds, in violation of the fundamental principle of our institutions, is not 
consummated, and may yet be arrested by the zealous and hearty co-opera- 
tion of all who sincerely love their country and the liberty of mankind, — 

" And whereas this scheme, if successful, involves the whole country, Free 
States as well as slave-owners, in one of the two greatest crimes a nation 
can commit, and threatens to involve them in the other, — namely, Slavery 
and unjust War, — Slavery of the most revolting character, and War to sus- 
tain Slavery, — 

" And whereas the State Constitution of Texas, which will soon be submit- 
ted to Congress for adoption or rejection, expressly prohibits the Legisla- 
ture, except under conditions rendering the exception practically void, from 
enacting any law for the emancipation of slaves, and for the abolition of 
the slave-trade between Texas and the United States, thereby reversing en- 
tirely the natural and just tendency of our institutions towards Freedom, — 

" And whereas the slaveholders seek annexation for the purpose of increas- 
ing the market of human flesh, and for extending and perpetuating Slavery, — 

" And whereas, by the triumph of this scheme, and by creating new Slave 
States within the limits of Texas, the slaveholders seek to control the politi- 
cal power of the majority of freemen represented in the Congress of the 
Union : — 

" Therefore be it resolved, in the name of God, of Christ, and of Humanity, 
that we, belonging to all political parties, and reserving all other reasons of 
objection, unite in protest against the admission of Texas into this Union as 
a Slave State. 

" Resolved, That the people of Massachusetts will continue to resist the 
consummation of this wicked purpose, which will cover the country with 
disgi'ace, and make us responsible for crimes of gigantic magnitude. 

" Resolved, That we have the fullest confidence that the Senators and Rep- 
resentatives of Massachusetts in Congress will never consent to the admis- 
sion of Texas as a Slave State, but by voice and vote wiU resist this fatal 
measure to the utmost at every stage. 



THE WRONG OF SLAVEEY. 151 

"And furthermore, whereas the Congress of the United States, by assum- 
ing to connect this country with a foreign state, have already involved the 
people of the Free States iu great expenditure for the protection of the 
usurped territory by force of arms on sea and land, — 

" And whereas a still gi-eatcr outlay may hereafter be incurred to main- 
tain by violence what is held by wrong: — 

^'■Resolved, That we protest against the policy of enlisting the strength of a 
free people to sustain by physical force a measure urged with the criminal 
purpose of perpetuating a system of slavery at war with the fundamental 
principle of our institutions. 

^'Resolved, That a committee be appointed by the chair to present copies of 
these Resolutions to the Senators and Representatives from Massachusetts, 
and also to send them to every Senator and Representative in Congress 
from the Free States." 

MR CHAIEMAN", — I could not listen to the 
appropriate remarks of my friend, the Secretary 
of the Commonwealth,! without recalling an important 
act in his life, and feeling anew what aU must feel, the 
beauty of his example in the fraternal treatment of 
slaves descended to him by inheritance, manumitting 
them as he has done, and conducting them far away 
from Slavery into these more cheerful precincts of Free- 
dom. In offering him this humble tribute, I am sure 
that I awaken a response in every heart that has not 
ceased to throb at the recital of an act of self-sacrifice 
and humanity. He has done as a citizen what Massa- 
chusetts is now called to do as a State. He has di- 
vested himself of all responsibility for any accession of 
slave property, and the State must do likewise. 

There are occasions, in the progress of affairs, when 
persons, though ordinarily opposed to each other, come 
together, and even the lukewarm, the listless, the indif- 
ferent unite heartily in a common object. Such is the 
case in great calamities, when the efforts of all are needed 
to avert a fatal blow. If the fire-bell startles us from our 

1 Hon. John G. Palfrey. 



152 THE WEONG OF SLAVERY. 

slumbers, we do not ask of what faith in politics oi 
religion is the unfortunate brother whose house is ex- 
posed to conflagration ; it is enough that there is mis- 
fortune to be averted. In this spirit we have assem- 
bled on this inclement evening, — putting aside all dis- 
tinctions of party, — forgetting all disagreements of 
opinion, to remember one thing only, on which all are 
agreed, — renouncing all discords, to stand firm on 
one ground only, where we all meet in concord : I mean 
opposition to Texas as a Slave State. 

The scheme for the annexation of Texas, begun in 
stealth and fraud, in order to extend and strengthen 
Slavery, has not yet received the final sanction of Con- 
gress. According to the course proposed by these 
machinators, it is necessary that Texas should be for- 
mally admitted into the family of States by a vote 
of Congress, and that her Constitution should be ap- 
proved by Congress. The question will be presented 
this winter, and we would, if we could, strengthen the 
hearts and words of those by whom the measure wiU 
be opposed. 

Ours is no factious or irregular course. It has the 
sanction of the best examples on a kindred occasion. 
The very question before us occurred in 1819, on the 
admission of Missouri as a Slave State. I need not 
remind you of the ardor and constancy with which this 
was opposed at the North, by men of all parties, with 
scarcely a dissenting voice. One universal chorus of 
protest thundered from the North against the forma- 
tion of what was called another Uack State. Meetings 
were convened in aU the considerable towns, — Phila- 
delphia, Trenton, New York, New Haven, and every- 
where throughout Massachusetts, — to make this oppo- 



THE WEONG OF SLAVEKY. 153 

sition audible on the floor of Congress. At Boston, 
December the 3d, 1819, a meeting without distinction 
of party, and embracing the leaders of both sides, was 
held in the State-House. That meeting, in its object, 
was precisely like the present. A numerous committee 
to prepare resolutions was appointed, of which William 
Eustis, afterwards Governor of Massachusetts, was chair- 
man. "With him were associated John Phillips, at that 
time President of the Senate of Massachusetts, — a 
name dear to every friend of the slave, as father of 
him to whose eloquent voice we hope to Ksten to- 
night,! — Timothy Bigelow, Speaker of the House of 
Eepresentatives, WiUiam Gray, Henry Dearborn, Jo- 
siah Quincy, Daniel Webster, William Ward, William 
Prescott, Thomas H. Perkins, Stephen AVhite, Benjamin 
Pickman, William Sullivan, George Blake, David Cum- 
mins, James Savage, John GaUison, James T. Austin, 
and Henry Orne. No committee could have been ap- 
pointed better fitted to inspire the confidence of aU 
sides. Numerous as were its members, they were all 
men of mark and consideration in our community. 
This committee reported the following resolutions, 
which were adopted by the meeting. 

"Resolved, as the opinion of this meeting, that the Congress 
of the United States possesses the constitutional power, upon 
the admission of any new State created beyond the limits of 
the original territory of the United States, to make the pro- 
hibition of the further extension of slavery or involuntary 
servitude in such new State a condition of its admission. 

"Resolved, That, in the opinion of this meeting, it is just 
and expedient that this power should be exercised by Con- 
gress upon the admission of all new States created beyond 
the original limits of the United States." 

1 Wendell Phillips Esq. 



154 THE WKONG OF SLAVEKY. 

The meeting in Boston was followed by another in Sa- 
lem, called, according to the terms of the notice, to con- 
sider " whether the immense region of country extending 
from the Mississippi to the Pacific Ocean is destined to 
be the abode of happiness, independence, and freedom, 
or the wide prison of misery and slavery." Resolutions 
were passed against the admission of any Slave State, 
being supported by Benjamin T. Pickman, Andrew Dun- 
lap, and Joseph Story, a name of authority wherever 
found. In the meeting at Worcester, Solomon Strong 
and Levi Lincoln took a prominent part. Resolutions 
were adopted here, " earnestly requesting their represen- 
tatives in Congress to use their unremitted exertions to 
prevent the sanction of that honorable body to any 
further introduction of slavery within the extending 
limits of the United States." By these assemblies the 
Commonwealth was aroused. To Slavery it presented 
an imbroken front. 

Since these efforts in the cause of Freedom twenty- 
five years have passed. Some of the partakers in them 
are still spared to us, — I need not add, full of years and 
honors. The larger part have been called from the duty 
of opposing slavery on earth. The same question which 
aroused their energies presents itself to us. Shall we 
be less faithful than they ? Will Massachusetts oppose 
a less unbroken front now than then ? In the lapse of 
these few years has the love of freedom diminished ? 
Has sensibility to human suffering lost any of the 
keenness of its edge ? 

Let us regard the question more closely. Congress is 
asked to sanction the Constitution of Texas, which not 
only supports slavery, but contains a. clause prohibiting 
the Legislature of the State from abolishing slavery. 



THE WKONG OF SLAVERY. 155 

In doing tliis, it will give a fresh stamp of legislative 
approbation to an unrighteous system ; it will assume a 
new and active responsibility for the system ; it will 
again become a dealer in human flesh, and on a gigantic 
scale. At this moment, when the conscience of man- 
kind is at last aroused to the enormity of holding a 
fellow-man in bondage, when, throughout the civilized 
world, a slave-dealer is a by- word and a reproach, we as 
a nation are about to become proprietors of a large 
population of slaves. Such an act, at this time, is re- 
moved from the reach of that palliation often extended 
to slavery. Slavery, we are speciously told by those 
who defend it, is not our original sin. It was entailed 
upon us by our ancestors, so we are instructed ; and the 
responsibility is often, with exultation, thrown upon the 
mother country. Now, without stopping to inquire into 
the truth of this allegation, it is sufficient for the pres- 
ent purpose to know that by welcoming Texas as a Slave 
State we make slavery our own original sin. Here is a 
new case of actual transgression, which we cannot cast 
upon the shoulders of any progenitors, nor upon any 
mother country, distant in time or place. The Congress 
of the United States, the people of the United States, 
at this day, in this vaunted period of hght, will be re- 
sponsible for it ; so that it will be said hereafter, so long 
as the dreadful history of Slavery is read, that in the 
present year of Christ a new and deliberate act was 
passed to confirm and extend it. 

By the present movement we propose no measure of 
change. We do not offer to interfere with any institu- 
tion of the Southern States, nor to modify any law on 
the subject of Slavery anywhere under the Constitution. 
Our movement is conservative. It is to preserve ex- 



156 THE WRONG OF SLAYERY. 

isting supports of Freedom ; it is to prevent the viola- 
tion of free institutions in their vital principles. 

Such a movement should unite in its support all but 
those few in whose distorted or unnatural vision slavery 
seems to be a great good. Most clearly should it unite 
the freemen of the North, by all the considerations of 
self-interest, and by those higher considerations founded 
on the rights of man. I cannot dwell now upon the 
controlling political influence in the councils of the 
country which the annexation of Texas will secure to 
slaveholders. This topic is of importance ; but it yields 
to the supreme requirements of religion, morals, and 
humanity. I cannot banish from my view the great 
shame and wrong of slavery. Judges of our courts 
have declared it contrary to the Law of Nature, finding 
its support only in positive enactments of men. Its 
horrors who can tell ? Language utterly fails to depict 
them. 

By the proposed measure, we not only become par- 
ties to the acquisition of a large population of slaves, 
with all the crime of slavery, but we open a new mar- 
ket for the slaves of Virginia and the Carolinas, and 
legalize a new slave-trade. A new slave-trade ! Con- 
sider this well. You cannot forget the horrors of that 
too famous " middle passage," where crowds of human 
beings, stolen, and borne by sea far from their warm 
African homes, are pressed on shipboard into spaces of 
smaller dimensions for each than a coffin. . And yet the 
deadly consequences of this middle passage are be- 
lieved to fall short of those sometimes undergone by 
the wretched coffles driven from the exhausted lands of 
the Northern Slave States to the sugar plantations near- 
er the sun of the South. One quarter part are said 



THE WRONG OF SLAVERY. 157 

often to perish in these removals. I see them, in im- 
agination, on their fatal journey, chained in bands, and 
driven like cattle, leaving behind what has become to 
them a home and a country, (alas ! what a home, and 
what a country !) — husband torn from wife, and parent 
from child, to be sold anew into more direful captiv- 
ity. Can this take place with our consent, nay, without 
our most determined opposition ? If the slave-trade is 
to receive new adoption from our country, let us have 
no part or lot in it. Let us wash our hands of this 
great guilt. As we read its horrors, may each of us be 
able to exclaim, with conscience void of offence, " Thou 
canst not say I did it." God forbid that the votes and 
voices of Northern freemen should help to bind anew 
the fetters of the slave ! God forbid that the lash of 
the slave-dealer should descend by any sanction from 
New England ! God forbid that the blood which spurts 
from the lacerated, quivering flesh of the slave should 
soil the hem of the white garments of Massachusetts ! 

Voices of discouragement reach us from other parts 
of the country, and even from our own friends in this 
bracing air. We are told that all exertion will be vain, 
and that the admission of a new Slave State is "a 
foregone conclusion." But this is no reason why we 
should shrink from duty. "I will try," was the re- 
sponse of an American officer on the field of battle. 
" England expects every man to do his duty," was the 
signal of the British admiral. Ours is a contest holier 
than those which aroused these stirring words. Let us 
try. Let every man among tts do his duty. 

And suppose New England stands alone in these 
efforts ; suppose Massachusetts stands alone : is it not a 
noble isolation ? Is it not the post of honor ? Is it not 



158 THE WRONG OF SLAVERY. 

the position where she will find companionship with all 
that is great and generous in the past, — with all the 
disciples of truth, of right, of liberty ? It has not been 
her wont on former occasions to inquire whether she 
should stand alone. Your honored ancestor, Mr. Chair- 
man, who from these walls regards our proceedings to- 
night, did not ask whether Massachusetts would be 
alone, when she commenced that opposition which ended 
in the independence of the Thirteen Colonies. 

But we cannot fail to accomplish great good. It is 
in obedience to a prevailing law of Providence, that no 
act of seK-sacrifice, of devotion to duty, of humanity 
can fail. It stands forever as a landmark, from which 
at least to make a new effort. Future champions of 
equal rights and human brotherhood will derive new 
strength from these exertions. 

Let Massachusetts, then, be aroused. Let all her 
children be summoned to this holy cause. There are 
questions of ordinary politics in which men may re- 
main neutral ; but neutrality now is treason to liberty, 
to humanity, and to the fundamental principles of 
free institutions. Let her united voice, with the ac- 
cumulated echoes of freedom that fill this ancient 
hall, go forth with comfort and cheer to aU who labor 
in the same cause everywhere throughout the land. 
Let it help to confirm the wavering, and to reclaim 
those who have erred from the right path. Especially 
may it exert a proper influence in Congress upon the 
representatives of the Free States. May it serve to 
make them as firm in the defence of Freedom as their 
opponents are pertinacious in the cause of Slavery. 

Massachusetts must continue foremost in the cause of 
Freedom ; nor can her cliildren yield to deadly dalliance 



THE WRONG OF SLAVERY. 159 

with Slavery. They must resist at all times, and be fore- 
armed against the fatal influence. There is a story of the 
magnetic mountain which drew out the iron bolts of a 
ship, though at a great distance. Slavery is such a moun- 
tain, and too often draws out the iron bolts of represen- 
tatives. There is another story of the Norwegian mael- 
strom, which, after sucking a ship into its vortex, wliirls 
the victim round and round until it is dashed in pieces. 
Slavery is such a maelstrom. Eepresentatives must 
continue safe and firm, notwithstanding magnetic moun- 
tain or maelstrom. But this can be only by following 
those principles for which Massachusetts is renowned. 

A precious incident in the life of one whom our coun- 
try has delighted to honor furnishes an example for 
imitation. When Napoleon, already at the piimacle 
of military honor, but lusting for perpetuity of power, 
caused a vote to be taken on the question, whether he 
should be First Consul for life, Lafayette, at that time 
in retirement, and only recently, by his intervention, 
liberated from the dungeons of Olmiitz, deliberately 
registered his No. Afterwards revisiting our shores, the 
scene of his youthful devotion to freedom, and receiving 
on all sides that beautiful homage of thanksgiving which 
is of itself an all-sufficient answer to the sarcasm that 
republics are ungrateful, here in Boston, this illustrious 
Frenchman listened with especial j)ride to the felicitation 
addressed to him as " the man who knew so well how 
to say No" Be this the example for Massachusetts ; 
and may it be among her praises hereafter, that on 
this occasion she knew so well how to say NO ! 



EQUAL RIGHTS IN THE LECTURE-ROOM. 

Letter to the Committee of the New Bedford Lyceum, 
November 29, 1845. 



After accepting an invitation to lecture before the Lyceum at New 
Bedford, Mr. Sumner, learning that colored persons were denied mem- 
bership and equal opportunities with white persons, refused to lecture, 
as appears in the following Letter, which was published in the papers of 
the time. 

Shortly afterwards the obnoxious rule was rescinded, and Mr. Sum- 
ner lectured. 

Boston, November 29, 1845. 

MY DEAE SIE, — I have received your favor of 
November 24, asking me to appoint an evening in 
February or March to lecture before the New Bedford 
Lyceum, in pursuance of my promise. 

On receiving the invitation of your Lyceum, I felt 
flattered, and, in undertaking to deliver a lecture at some 
time, to be appointed afterwards, I promised myself 
peculiar pleasure in an occasion of visiting a town which 
I had never seen, but whose refined hospitality and lib- 
eral spirit, as described to me, awakened my warmest 
interest. 

Since then I have read in the public prints a protest, 
purporting to be by gentlemen well known to me by 
reputation, who are members of the Lyceum, and some 
of them part of its government, from which it appears 
that in former years tickets of admission were freely 
sold to colored persons, as to white persons, and that no 



EQUAL EIGHTS IN THE LECTUEE-EOOM, 161 

objection was made to them as members, but that at the 
present time tickets are refused to colored persons, and 
membership is also refused practically, though, by spe- 
cial vote recently adopted, they are allowed to attend 
the lectures without expense, provided they will sit in 
the north gallery. 

From these facts it appears that the New Bedford Ly- 
€eum has undertaken within its jurisdiction to establish 
a distinction of Caste not recognized before. 

One of the cardinal truths of religion and freedom is 
the Equality and Brotlicrliood of Man. In the sight of 
God and of all just institutions the white man can claim 
no precedence or exclusive privilege from his color. It 
is the accident of an accident that j^laces a human soul 
beneath the dark shelter of an African countenance, 
rather than beneath our colder complexion. Nor can I 
conceive any application of the divine injunction. Do 
unto others as you would have them do unto you, 
more pertinent than to the man who founds a discrimi- 
nation between his fellow-men on difference of skin. 

It is well known that the prejudice of color, which 
is akin to the stern and selfish spirit that holds a 
fellow-man in slavery, is peculiar to our country. It 
does not exist in other civiHzed countries. In France 
colored youths at college have gained the highest hon- 
ors, and been welcomed as if they were white. At 
the Law School there I have sat with them on the same 
benches. In Italy I have seen an Abyssinian mingling 
with monks, and there was no apparent suspicion on 
either side of anything open to question. All this was 
Christian : so it seemed to me. 

In lecturing before a Lyceum which has introduced 
the prejudice of color among its laws, and thus formal- 

VOL. I. — 11 



162 EQUAL RIGHTS IN THE LECTUEE-ROOM. 

ly reversed an injunction of highest morals and politics, 
I might seem to sanction what is most alien to my soul, 
and join in disobedience to that command which 
teaches that the children of earth are all of one blood. 
I cannot do this. 

I beg, therefore, to be excused at present from ap- 
pointing a day to lecture before your Lyceum ; and I 
pray you to lay this letter before the Lyceum, that the 
groimd may be understood on which I deem it my duty 
to decline the honor of appearing before them. 

I hope you will pardon the frankness of this commu- 
nication, and believe me, my dear Sir, 

Very faithfully yours, 

CHAKLBS SUMNER. 

To the Chairman of the Committee > 
of the New Bedford Lyceum. \ 



PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.^ 

Article from the Christian Examiner, January, 1846. 



IT is with a feeling of deference that we welcome 
Miss Dix's " Eemarks on Prisons and Prison Disci- 
pline." Her peculiar labors for humanity, and her 
renunciation of the refined repose which has such at- 
tractions for her sex, to go about doing good, enduring 
the hardships of travel, the vicissitudes of the chang- 

* 1. Hemarks on Prisons and Prison Discipline in the United States. By 
D. L. Dix. Second Edition. Philadelphia. 1845. 8vo. pp. 108. 

2. Nineteenth Annual Report of the Board of Managers of the Prison Dis- 
cipline Society. Boston. 1844. 8vo. pp. 116. 

3. Prisons and Prisoners. By Joseph Adshead. With Illustrations. 
London. 1845. 8vo. pp. 320. 

4. Report of the Surveyor- General of Prisons on the Construction, Ventilor- 
tion, and Details of the Pentonville Prison. London. 1844. fol. pp. 30. 

5. Revue Peniteniiaire des Institutions Preventives, sous la Direction de M. 
MoREAU-CnRiSTOPHE. Tom. II. Paris. 1845. 8vo. pp. 659. 

6. Du Projet de Loi sur la Reforme des Prisons. Par M. L^on Faucher. 
Paris. 1844. 8vo. 

7. Considerations sur la Reclusion IndividueUe des Detenus. Par W. H. 
Suringar. Traduit du Hollandais sur la seconde Edition. Pr^c^d(5es d'une 
Preface, et suivies du Kfeum^ de la Question P^nitentiaire, par L. M. Mo- 
Keau-Christophe. Paris et Amsterdam. 1843. 8vo. pp. 131. 

8. Nordamerikas Sittliche Zustdnde. (The Moral Condition of North 
America.) Von Dr. N. H. Julids. 2 Biinde. Leipzig. 1839. 8vo. 

9. Archiv des Criminalrechts, herausgegeben von den Professoren Abegg, 
BiRNBAUM, Heffter, Mittermaier, Wachter, Zacharia. (Archives 
of Criminal Law, edited by Professors Abegg, etc.) Halle. 1843. 12mo. 
pp. 697. 



164 PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

ing season, and, more trying still, the coldness of the 
world, awaken towards her a sense of gratitude, and 
invest her name with an interest wliich must attach 
to anything from her pen. 

The chosen and almost exclusive sphere of woman is 
home, in the warmth of the family hearth. Earely is she 
able to mingle with effect in the active labors which 
influence mankind. With incredulity we admire the 
feminine expounder of the Eoman law, illustrating by 
her lectures the Universities of Padua and Bologna, — 
and the charities of St. Elizabeth of Hungary are leg- 
endary in the dim distance ; though, in our own day, 
the classical productions of the widow of Wyttenbach, 
crowned Doctor of Philosophy by the University of 
Marburg, and most especially the beautiful labors of 
Mrs. Fry, recently closed by death, are examples of the 
sway exerted by the gentler sex beyond the charmed 
circle of domestic life. Among these Miss Dix will 
receive a place which her modesty would forbid her to 
claim. Her name will be enrolled among benefactors. 
It will be pronounced with gratitude, when heroes in 
the strifes of politics and of war are disregarded or for- 
gotten. 

" Can we forget the generous few 
Who, touched with human woe, redressive sought 
Into the horrors of the gloomy jail, 
Unpitied and unheard, where misery moans, 
Where sickness pines ? " 

Miss Dix's labors embrace penitentiaries, jails, alms- 
houses, poor-houses, and asylums for the insane, through- 
out the Northern and Middle States, — all of which she 
has visited, turning a face of gentleness towards crime, 
comforting the unfortunate, softening a hard lot, sweet- 
ening a bitter cup, while she obtained information of 



PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 165 

their condition calculated to awaken the attention of 
the public. This labor of love she has pursued ear- 
nestly, devotedly, sparing neither time nor strength, neg- 
lecting no person, abject or lowly, frequenting the cells 
of all, and by word and deed seeking to strengthen their 
hearts. The melody of her voice still sounds in our 
ears, as, standing in the long corridor of the Philadelphia 
Penitentiary, she read a Psalm of consolation ; nor will 
that scene be effaced quickly from the memory of any 
then present. Her Memorials, addressed to the Legis- 
latures of different States, have divulged a mass of facts, 
derived from personal and most minute observation, 
particidarly with regard to the treatment of the insane, 
which must arouse the sensibilities of a humane people. 
In herself alone she is a whole Prison Discipline So- 
ciety. To her various efforts may be applied, without 
exaggeration, those magical words in which Burke com- 
memorated the kindred charity of Howard, when he 
says that he travelled, "not to survey the sumptuous- 
ness of palaces or the stateliness of temples, not to 
make accurate measurements of the remains of ancient 
grandeur nor to form a scale of the curiosity of mod- 
ern art, not to collect medals or collate manuscripts, 
but to dive into the depths of dungeons, to plunge 
into the infection of hospitals, to survey the man- 
sions of sorrow and pain, to take the gauge and dimen- 
sions of misery, depression, and contempt, to remember 
the forgotten, to attend to the neglected, to visit the 
forsaken, and to compare and collate the distresses of 
all men." 

Her " Eemarks " contain general results on different 
points connected with the discipline of prisons : as, 
the duration of sentences ; pardons and the pardoning 



166 PKISONS AND PEISON DISCIPLINE. 

power ; diet of prisoners ; water ; clothing ; ventilation ; 
heat ; health ; visitors' fees ; dimensions of lodging-cells 
in the State penitentiaries ; moral, religious, and general 
instruction in prisons ; reformation of prisoners ; peni- 
tentiary systems of the United States ; and houses of 
refuse for juvenile offenders. It would he interesting 
and instructive to examine the conclusions on all these 
important topics having the sanction of her disinter- 
ested experience; but om- limits restrict us, on the 
present occasion, to a single topic. 

We are disposed to take advantage of the interest 
Miss Dix's publication may excite, and alsp of her name, 
which is an authority, to say a few words on a question 
much agitated, and already the subject of many books, 
— the comparative merits of what are called the Penn- 
sylvania and Auburn Penitentiary Systems. This ques- 
tion is, perhaps, the most important of aU that grow out 
of Prisons ; for it affects, in a measure, all others. It 
involves both the construction of the prison, and its 
administration. 

The subject of Prison Discipline, and particularly the 
question between the two systems, has of late years oc- 
cupied the attention of jurists and philanthropists in no 
ordinary degree. The discussion has been conducted in 
all the languages of Europe, to such an extent that the 
titles alone of the works would occupy considerable 
space in a volume of Bibliography. We have before 
us, for instance, a list of no less than eleven in Italian. 
But we must go back to the last century, if we would 
trace the origin of the controversy. 

To HoAvard, a man of true greatness, whose name 
will stand high on the roll of the world's benefactors, 
belongs the signal honor of first awakening the sympa- 



PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 167 

thies of the Englisli people in this work of benevolence. 
By his travels and labors he became familiar with the 
actual character of prisons, and was enabled to spread 
before the public an accumulation of details which fill 
the reader with horror and disgust. The condition of 
prisons at that time in England was appalling. Of 
course there was no system ; nor was there any civil- 
ization in the treatment of prisoners. Everything was 
bad. As there was no care, so there was no cleanliness, 
on which so much depends, and there was no classifica- 
tion or separation of any kind. All commingled, so 
that the uncleanness of one befouled all, and the wick- 
edness of one contaminated all. While this contmued, 
all hope of reform was vain. Therefore, with especial 
warmth, Howard pleaded for the sc^paration of prisoners, 
especially at night, " wishing to have so many small 
rooms or cabins that each criminal may sleep alone," ^ 
and called attention to the fact he had observed in Hol- 
land, that "in most of tlie prisons for criminals there 
are so many rooms that each prisoner is kept sepa- 
rate." 2 

The importance of the principle of separation was 
first recognized at Eome, as long ago as 1703, by Clem- 
ent XI., in the foundation of the Hospital of St. Michael, 
or the House of Eefuge, where a separate dormitory 
was provided for each prisoner. Over the portal of 
this asylum, in letters of gold, were inscribed the words 
of wisdom which Howard adopted as the motto of his 
labors, and which indicate the spirit that should preside 
over the administration of all prisons : Parum est ini- 
prohos coercere poena, nisi prohos ejjicias disciplina, — It 
is of small consequence to coerce the wicked by pun- 

1 Howard, State of the Prisons, p. 22. 2 ibid., p. 45. 



168 PEISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

ishment, unless you make them good by discipline. 
The first and most imjDortant step in this discipline is 
to remove prisoners from aU evil influence, — which can 
be done only by separation from each other, and by 
filling their time with labor. 

In furtherance of this principle, and that he might 
reduce it to practice, Howard, in conjunction with Sir 
William Blackstone, as early as 1779, drew an Act of 
Parliament, the preamble to the fifth section of which 
is an enunciation of the cardinal truth at the founda- 
tion of all effective prison discipline. 

" Whereas," says the Act, " if many offenders, con- 
victed of crimes for which transportation hath been 
usually inflicted, ivcrc ordered to solitary imprisonment, 
accompanied hy well-regulated labor and religious instruc- 
tion, it might be the means, under Providence, not only 
of deterring others from the commission of the like 
crimes, hut also of reforming the individuals" etc. No- 
ble words ! Here, for the first time in English legislation, 
the reformation of the prisoner is proposed as a distinct 
object. This Act, though passed, was unfortunately 
never carried into execution, through the perverseness, 
it is said, of one of the persons associated with Howard 
as commissioner for erecting a suitable prison. 

As early as 1790 a law was passed in Pennsylvania, 
which is of importance in the history of this subject, 
showing appreciation of the principle of seclusion 
with labor. In the preamble it is declared, that pre- 
vious laws for the punishment of criminals had failed 
of success, " from the communication with each other 
not being sufficiently restrained within the places of 
confinement, and it is hoped that the addition of unre- 
mitted solitude to laborious employment, as far as it can 



PKISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 169 

be effected, will contribute as much to reform as to de- 
ter " ; and the Act further provides, that certain persons 
shall be " kept separate and apart from each other, as 
much as the convenience of the building will admit." 
The principle of separation, when first announced by 
Howard, and practically attempted in Pennsylvania, was 
imperfectly understood. It was easy to see the impor- 
tance of separation ; but how should it be applied ? In 
Pennsylvania it was attempted at first with such rigor 
as to justify its designation as the Solitary System. 
But as the new penitentiary in Philadelphia was about to 
be occupied, a law was passed providing that after July 
1st, 1829, convicts should, "instead of the penitentiary 
punishments heretofore prescribed, be sentenced to suffer 
punishment by separate or solitary confinement at la- 
hor " ; and there is further provision for " visits to the 
prisoners." Here were the two elements, — first, of la- 
bor, and, secondly, of visits. In pursuance of this Act, 
that penitentiary was organized at Philadelphia which 
affoi^led the first example on an extended scale of the ab- 
solute separation of convicts from each other, combined 
with labor. And this penitentiary has given its name 
to the class of prisons founded on this principle. 

It should be borne in mind that this system is dis- 
tinguishable from one of solitary confinement with labor, 
— much more from one of mere solitary confinement 
without labor. An intemperate opponent, too rash or 
prejudiced to recognize all the truth, has often charac- 
terized the present Pennsylvania system as the Solitary 
System, and by this term not unfrequently aroused a 
feeling against it which must disaj)pear before a candid 
inquiry. It is easy to condemn any system of absolute 
solitude without solace of labor or society. The exam- 



170 PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

pies of history rise in judgment against such. Who can 
forget the Bastile ? We have the testimony of Lafay- 
ette, whose own further experience at Olmlitz should 
not be neglected, as to its effect. "I repaired to the 
scene," he says, " on the second day of the demolition, 
and found that all the prisoners had been deranged by 
their solitary confinement, except one. He had been a 
prisoner twenty-five years, and was led forth during the 
height of the tumultuous riot of the people, whilst en- 
gaged in tearing down the building. He looked around 
with amazement, for he had seen nobody for that space 
of time, and before night he was so much affected that 
he became a confirmed maniac." But the Bastile is not 
the only prison whose stones, could they speak, would 
tell this fearful tale; nor is Lafayette the only re- 
porter. 

Names often have the importance of things ; and it 
cannot be doubted that the ignorant or dishonest appli- 
cation of the term solitary to the Pennsylvania system 
is a strong reason for the opposition it has encoun- 
tered. 

The Separate System has but one essential condition, 
— the absolute separation of prisoners from intercourse 
of any kind with each other. On this may be engrafted 
labor, instruction, and even constant society with offi- 
cers of the prison, or with virtuous persons. In fact, 
these have become, in greater or less degree, component 
parts of the system. In constant employment the pris- 
oner finds peace, and in the society with which he is 
indulged innocent relaxation and healthy influence. 
This is the Pennsylvania system. 

There is another and rival system, first established in 
the Maison de Force at Ghent, but borrowing its name 



PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 171 

from the Auburn Penitentiary of New York, where it 
was first introduced in 1816, by a remarkable discipli- 
narian, Elam Lynds. Here the prisoners are separated 
only at night, each sleeping in a small cell or dormitory 
by himself During the day they labor together in 
shops, or in the open air, according to the nature of the 
work, — being prohibited from speaking to each other, 
under pain of punishment. From the latter feature 
this is often called the Silent Systein. As its chief 
peculiarity, in contradistinction to the Separate System, 
is the working of prisoners in assemblies, where all see 
and are seen, it may be more properly designated the 
Congregate System. 

Such, in brief, are these two systems, which, it will be 
observed, both aim at the same object, the separation of 
prisoners so that they can have no intercourse with each 
other. In the one this end is attained by their physical 
separation from each other both night and day ; in the 
other, by such separation at night, with untiring watch 
by day to prevent intercourse. Of course, separation by 
the Congregate system is less complete than by the other. 
Conversation by words may be restrained ; though it is 
now admitted that no guardian can be sufficiently watch- 
ful to intercept on all occasions those winged messen- 
gers. The extensive unspoken, unwritten language of 
signs, the expression of the countenance, the movements 
of the body, may telegraph from convict to convict 
thoughts of stubbornness, hatred, or revenge. 

If separation be desirable, should it not be complete ? 
Should not the conducting wires be broken, so that no 
electrical spark may propagate its disturbing force ? 
But the very pains taken in the Congregate system to 
insure silence by day and separation by night answer 



172 PKISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

this question. Thus, by strange inconsistency, the advo- 
cates of the Congregate system seek to enfore se'paration. 
Wedded to an imperfect practice, they recognize the 
correct j)riiiciple. 

Before proceeding farther with this comparison it is 
proper to glance at the real objects of prison discipline, 
that we may be better enabled to determine which sys- 
tem is best calculated to answer these objects. 

Three things are proposed by every enlightened sys- 
tem : first, to deter others from crime ; secondly, to 
prevent the offender from preying again upon society ; 
thirdly, discipline and care, so far as possible to promote 
reformation. There are grounds for belief that the first 
two purposes are best attained by the Separate system ; 
but without considering these particularly, let us pass 
to the question, Wliich is best calculated to perform that 
truly heavenly function of reforming the offender ? 

Is not the answer prompt and decisive in favor of 
that system which most completely protects the prison- 
er from the pernicious influence of brethren in guilt ? 
It is a venerable proverb, that a man is known by the 
company he keeps ; and this is a homely expression of 
the truth, that the character of a man is naturally in 
harmony with those about him. If the society about 
him is virtuous, his own virtues will be confirmed and 
expanded ; on the other hand, if it be wicked, then 
will the demon of his nature be aroused. Bad qualities, 
as well as good, are quickened and strengthened under 
the influence of society. Every association of prison- 
ers must pervert, in greater or less degree, but can never 
reform, those of whom it is composed. The obdurate 
ofiender, perpetually brooding on evil, even though he 
utter no audible word, will impart to the congregation 



PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE, 173 

something of his own hardness of heart. Are we not 
told by the poet, that sheep and swine take contagion 
from one of their number, and even a grape is spoiled 
by another grape ? 

" Dedit hanc contagio labem, 
Et dabit in plures ; sicut grex totus in agris 
Unius scabie cadit, et porrigiue porci, 
Uvaqiie conspecta livorem ducit ab wua." l 

From the inherent nature of things, this contagion 
must be propagated by the Congregate system, while 
the Separate system does all that man can do to restrain 
it. By the latter, as successfully administered, the pris- 
oner is, in the first place, withdrawn, so far as possible 
by human means, from all bad influences, while, in the 
second place, he is brought under the operation of good 
influences. The mind is naturally diverted from thick- 
coming schemes of crime, and turned to thoughts of 
virtue. What in it is bad, if not entirely subdued, is 
weakened by inactivity, while the good is prompted to 
constant exercise. 

It cannot be questioned, then, on grounds of reason, 
independent of experience, that the Separate system is 
better calculated to promote that great object of Prison 
Discipline, the reformation of the offender. With this 
recommendation alone it would be entitled to the re- 
gard of aU who feel that the return of a single sinner 
is blessed. 

But a further object is secured. As the prisoners 
n^ver see one another, they leave the penitentiary, at 
the expiration of their punishment, literally unknowing 
and unknown. In illustration of this fact, the delightful 
incident is mentioned, that the keeper of the Philadel- 
phia Penitentiary once recognized three persons at the 

1 Juv., Sat. II. 78 - 81. 



174 PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

same place, engaged in honest labor, who had been in his 
custody as convicts, though neither knew the career of the 
other two. Discharged prisoners are thus enabled to slide 
back into the community, without the chilling fear of 
untimely recognition by those with whom they congre- 
gated in the penitentiary. They cannot escape the 
memory of the punishment they have endured ; but the 
brand is hot upon the forehead. They are encouraged 
to honest exertion by the hope of retrieving, on a distant 
spot and under a new name, the fair character they have 
lost ; while, on the other hand, if evil-minded, they have 
no associations of the prison to renew, or to stimulate to 
conspiracy against society. 

A system of Prison Discipline with these benign fea- 
tures must long ago have commended itself to general 
acceptance, if it had not been opposed with exceptional 
ardor on grounds which, though in reality little tena- 
ble, are calculated to exercise influence over the igno- 
rance and prejudice of men. 

The first objection is, that it is productive of insan- 
ity, from an unnatural deprivation of society. Howev- 
er just this may be when directed against the Solitary- 
system, it is inapplicable to what is called the Separate 
system, which does not exclude the idea of society, and, 
as practically administered at Philadelphia and else- 
where, supplies both society and labor in ample meas- 
ure. If the prisoner is not indulged with society enough, 
it is a fault in the administration of the system, and not 
in the system itself. In the publications of the Boston 
Prison Discipline Society, elaborate tables have been 
arranged showing a tendency to insanity in the Peniten- 
tiary at Philadelphia; but careful and candid inquiry 
wHl demonstrate that these are founded in misapprehen- 



PEISONS AND PKISON DISCIPLINE. 175 

sion, and will exonerate that institution from such im- 
putation. Tlie highest authorities in medicine have dis- 
tinctly declared, that the Separate system, if properly 
administered, with labor and conversation, does not af- 
fect the reason. The names of Esquirol and Louis give 
to this opinion the strongest sanction of science through- 
out the civilized world. The same conclusion was af- 
firmed with precision and fervor by Lelut, in an elaborate 
memoir before the Institute of France, and also by the 
Scientific Congress assembled at Padua in 1843, and at 
Lucca in 1844. 

The second objection charges the Separate system 
with being unfavorable to health, as compared with the 
Congregate system. In reply we merely say, that the 
great names in medicine to which we have already re- 
ferred expressly deny that it has any influence in short- 
ening life ; while a statistical comparison of several pen- 
itentiaries conducted on the Congregate system with 
the Philadelphia Penitentiary attests the superiority of 
the latter in this respect. 

The third and last objection is founded on the in- 
creased expense of the Separate system. The Congre- 
gate system is recommended by suggestions of economy 
and clamors of cupidity. It is said to be put into 
operation at less cost, and afterwards to support itself, 
and even to bring profit to the State. We are sorry 
to believe that this consideration has had an exten- 
sive influence. It is humiliating to suppose that Gov- 
ernment would hesitate to adopt a system founded on 
enlightened humanity because another might be had 
for less money, — counting the unworthy gain or the 
petty economy as of higher consequence than the ref- 
ormation of an offender. Such a course were unworthy 



176 PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

of our civilization. The State has sacred duties to 
the unfortunate men it takes into its custody. It 
must see not only that they receive no harm, but 
that they enjoy aU means of improvement consistent 
with their condition, — that, while their bodies are 
clothed and fed, their souls are not left naked and hun- 
gry. It assumes the place of parent, and owes a parent's 
care and kindness ; or rather, when we consider that the 
State itself is child of the people, may we not say that 
it should emulate that famous Eoman charity, so often 
illustrated by Art, wliich descended into the darkness 
of a dungeon, to afford an exuberant, health-giving 
bosom to the exhausted being from whom it drew its 
own life. 

Notwithstanding the uncompromising hostility the 
Separate system has encountered, it wins constant favor. 
Many prisons are built on this plan, and experience 
comes to confirm the suggestions of humanity and sci- 
ence. The Penitentiary at Philadelphia, which first 
proved its superiority, was followed in 1833 by one 
at Pittsburg and by a County Prison at Alleghany, 
and in 1841 by another County Prison, on the same 
system, at Harrisburg. In 1834 New Jersey followed 
the example of her neighbor State, and established a 
penitentiary on this system at Trenton. 

Commissions from foreign governments, after visiting 
the different prisons of the United States, have all re- 
ported emphatically in favor of the Separate system : as, 
that of Beaumont and De Tocqueville to the French 
Government, in 1831 ; of Mr. Crawford to the English, 
in 1834 ; of Dr. Julius to the Prussian, in 1836, after 
a most careful perambulation of all the prisons of the 
country ; of Demetz and Blouet to the French, in 1837, 



PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 17T 

— being the second Commission from the same Gov- 
ernment ; and of Neilson and Mondelet to the Canadian 
Government, in 1836. 

In accordance with these recommendations, numerous 
prisons have been built or are now building in Europe. 
In England a model prison has been constructed at Pen- 
tonviUe, which is perhaps the best prison in the world. 
In the late Report of the Surveyor-General of Prisons, 
laid on the table of Parliament during its last session, 
it was expressly declared, from the experience gained in 
the Pentonville prison, " that the separation of one pris- 
oner from another is indispensable as the basis of any 
sound system." As long ago as 1843, no less than sev- 
enteen prisons on this principle were built or building 
in different counties of England, and several in Scot- 
land. In France the whole subject has undergone most 
thorough discussion by the press, and also in debate 
by the Chamber of Deputies. Among the works now 
before us is a volume of more than six hundred pages, 
filled by a report of this debate, with notes, which 
ended in the passage of a law during the last summer 
appropriating ninety millions of francs for the building 
of thirty prisons on the Separate system. Such is the 
testimony of France and England. 

Similar testimony comes from other quarters : from 
Prussia, where five prisons on this system have been 
built ; from Denmark, where ten are now building ; 
from Sweden, where eight are building under the aus- 
pices of the monarch, who, when Prince Oscar, wrote 
ably in advocacy of the Separate system ; from Norway, 
where one is now building in the neighborhood of Chris- 
tiania ; from Poland, where one has long been in ex- 
istence, and three others are nearly completed ; from 

VOL. I. — 12 



178 PRISONS AND PEISON DISCIPLINE. 

Hungary, where a project has been submitted to the 
Diet for the erection of ten on the Separate system ; 
from Holland, where one is about to be erected on the 
plan of Pentonville ; from Belgium, which has yielded 
to the Separate system, and has even engrafted it upon 
the famous Maison de Force at Ghent, the model of our 
Auburn Prison ; from the Duchy of Nassau ; from the 
Grand Duchy of Baden ; from Frankfort-on-the-Main ; 
from Hamburg; from Geneva, in Switzerland: in all 
of which prisons on this system are built or are build- 
ing. From poor, distracted Spain proceeds the same 
testimony. 

To this array of authorities and examples may be 
added two names of commanding weight in all matters of 
Prison Discipline, — Edward Livingston and Miss Dix. 
The first, whose high fortune it was to refine jurispru- 
dence by his philantliropy, as he had illumined it by 
his genius and strengthened it by his learning, in his 
Introductory Eeport to the Code of Prison Discipline, 
as long ago as 1827, urged with classical eloquence a 
system of " seclusion, accompanied by moral, religious, 
and scientific instruction, and useful manual labor." 
Miss Dix, after attentive survey of different systems 
throughout our country, fervently enforces, as well in 
the publication now before us as in her Memorials, the 
merits of the Separate system, and of its administration 
in Pennsylvania. 

It might be said that the voices of civilized nations, 
by a rare harmony, concurred in sanctioning the Sepa- 
rate system, if the Boston Prison Discipline Society had 
not raised a persistent note of discord, which has gone 
on with a most unmusical crescendo. As the solitary 
champion of an imperfect system which the world is 



PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 179 

renouncmg, it has contended with earnestness, which 
has often become prejudice, and with insensibility to 
accumulating facts, which was injustice. With frank- 
ness, as with sorrow, we allude to the sinister influence 
it has exercised over this question, particularly through- 
out the Northern States. But the truth which has been 
proclaimed abroad need not be delicately minced at 
home. We do not join with the recent English writer, 
who, among many harsher suggestions, speaks of the 
"misrepresentation," the "trickery," the "imposture"^ 
of the Society or its agent, — nor with Moreau-Chris- 
tophe, who says, "La Society dcs Prisons a Bosto7i a jur4 
haine a mort au systhne de Philadelphie" ;'^ for we know 
well the honesty and sincere interest in the welfare of 
prisoners which animate its Secretary, and we feel per- 
suaded that he will gladly abandon the deadly war 
which he wages against the Separate system, when 
he sees it as it is now regarded by the science and 
humanity of the civilized world. But we feel that his 
exertions, which in some departments of Prison Disci- 
pline have been productive of incalculable good, for 
which his memory will be blessed, on this important 
question have done harm. In his Eeports he has never 
failed to present all the evil of the Separate system, 
particularly as administered in Pliiladelphia, sometimes 
even drawing upon his imagination for facts, while he 
has carefully withheld the testimony in its favor. This 
beneficent system and its meritorious supporters are 
held up to obloquy, and the wide circle that confided 
implicitly in his Eeports are consigned to darkness 
with regard to its true character and its general recep- 
tion abroad. 

1 Adshead, pp. 127, 129. 2 Revue P^nitentiaire, Tom. 11. p. 589. 



180 ' PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

One of the most strenuous advocates of the Separate 
system at the present moment, whose work of elaborate 
argument and detail now lies before us, is Suringar, 
called sometimes the Howard of Holland, who had sig- 
nalized himself by previous opposition to it. He says, 
" I am now completely emancipated from my former 
error. This error I do not blush to confess openly. The 
same change has been wrought in the opinions of Julius 
in Prussia, of Crawford in England, of Berenger and 
Demetz in France, and of all men of good faith, who 
are moved, in their researches, only by the suggestions 
of conscience, imswayed by prejudice or pride of opin- 
ion." Perhaps in these changes of opinion the Secre- 
tary of the Boston Prison Discipline Society may find 
an example which he will not be unwUling to follow ; 
and it may be for us to welcome him as a cordial fellow- 
laborer in the conscientious support of what he has for 
a long period most conscientiously attacked. 

Prom this rapid survey it will be seen that our con- 
victions and sympathies are with the Separate system, 
Nothing in Prison Discipline seems clearer than the 
general duty of removing prisoners from the corrupt- 
ing influence of association, even though siLent. But 
we are not insensible to the encouragement and succor 
which prisoners might derive from companionship with 
those struggling like themselves. It was a wise remark 
of the English Professor, that "students are the best 
professors to each other " ; and the experience of Mrs. 
Parnham, the matron of the female convicts at Sing- 
Sing, shows that this same principle is not without its 
effect even among classes of convicts. Perhaps the Sep- 
arate system might be modified, so as to admit instruc- 
tion and labor together, in a small class, selected after a 



PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 181 

probationary period of separation, as specially worthy 
of this indulgence and confidence. Such a modification 
was contemplated and recommended by Mr. Livingston, 
and would seem to find favor with Von Eaumer in his 
recent work on America. This pri^dlege can be im- 
parted to those only who have shown themselves so ex- 
emplary that their society seems to be nncontaminating. 
But it remains to be seen whether there is any subtile 
alchemy by which their purity may be determined, so as 
to justify a departure from the general rule of separation. 
Finally, we would commend this subject to the at- 
tention of all. In the language of Sir Michael Foster, 
a judge of eminence in the last century, " No rank or 
condition of life, no uprightness of heart, no prudence 
or circumspection of conduct, should teach any man to 
conclude that he may not one day be deeply interested 
in these researches." There are considerations of self-in- 
terest which may move those who do not incline to labor 
for others, unless with ultimate advantage to themselves. 
But all of true benevolence, and justly appreciating the 
duties of the State, will join in effort for the poor pris- 
oner, deriving from his inferior condition new motives 
to action, that it may be true of the State, as of law, 
that the very least feels its care, as the greatest is not 
exempt from its power. In the progress of an enlight- 
ened Prison Discipline, it may be hoped that our peni- 
tentiaries will become in reality, if not in name, Houses 
of Reformation, and that convicts will be treated with 
scrupulous regard for their well-being, physical, moral, 
and intellectual, to the end, that, when they are allowed 
to mingle again with society, they may feel sympathy 
with virtue and detestation of vice, and, when wiser, 
may be better men. 



182 PKISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

In the promotion of this cause, the city of Boston at 
this moment occupies a position of signal advantage. 
It has determined to erect a new county jail, and the 
plans are still under consideration. It is easy to per- 
ceive that the plan it adopts and the system of disci- 
pline it recognizes will become an example. No nar- 
row prejudice and no unworthy economy should pre- 
vent the example from being such as becomes a city of 
the wealth, refinement, and humanity of Boston. It is 
a common boast, that her schools and various institu- 
tions of beneficence are the best in the world. The 
prison about to be erected should share this boast. Let 
it he the lest in the world. Let it be the model prison, 
not only to our own country, but to other countries. 
The rule of separation, considered of such importance 
among the ripe convicts of the penitentiary, is of greater 
necessity still in a prison which will receive before 
trial both innocent and guilty. From the first moment 
he is touched by the hand of the law, the prisoner 
should be cut off from all association, by word or sight, 
with feUow-prisoners. The State, as his temporary 
guardian, mindful of his weakness, owes him this pro- 
tection and this means of reformation. 

The absolute separation of prisoners, so that they can 
neither see, hear, nor touch each other, is the pole-star 
of Prison Disciplme. It is the Alpha, or beginning, as 
the reformation of the offender is the Omega, or the 
end. It is this principle, when properly administered, 
which irradiates with heavenly light even the darkness 
of the dungeon, driving far away the intrusive legion of 
unclean thoughts, and introducing in their vacant place 
the purity of religion, the teachings of virtue, the solace 
of society, and the comfort of hope. In this spirit let 



PRISONS AND PKISON DISCIPLINE. 183 

US build our prisons. The jail will no longer be a 
charnel-house of living men ; the cell will cease to be 
the tomb where is buried what is more precious than 
the body, — a human soul. From their iron gates let us 
erase that doom of despair, 

" All hope abandon, ye who enter in," 

and inscribe words of gentleness, encouragement, love. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

Lecture before the Boston Lyceum, delivered in the Federal 
Street Theatre, February 18, 1846. 



" T" HAVE lost a day," was the exclamation of the vir- 
X tuous Eoman Emperor, — " for on this day I have 
done no good thing." The Arch of Titus still stands 
midway between the Forum and the Colosseum, and 
the curious traveller discerns the golden candlesticks of 
conquered Judsea sculptured on its marble sides ; but 
this monument of triumph, and the memory it perpet- 
uates of the veteran legions of Eome and the twenty 
cohorts of allies before whose swords the sacred city 
yielded its life in terrible fire and blood, give not to 
the conqueror such true glory as springs from these 
words, — destined to endure long after the arch has 
crumbled to dust, and when the triumph it seeks to 
perpetuate has passed from the minds of men. That 
day was not lost. On no day wast thou so great or 
beneficent as when thou gavest this eternal lesson to 
man. Across the ages it still reaches innumerable 
hearts, even as it penetrated the friendly bosoms that 
throbbed beneath its first utterance. The child learns 
it, and receives a new impulse to labor and goodness. 
There are few, whether old or young, who do not recog- 
nize it as more than a victory. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 185 



If I undertake to dwell on the suggestions of this 
theme, it is because it seems to me especially appro- 
priate to the young, at whose request I have the honor 
of appearing before you. My subject is the Value of 
Time, and the way in which it may be best employed. I 
shall attempt nothing elaborate, but simply gather to- 
gether illustrations and examples, which, though trite 
and familiar, will at least be practical. 

The value of time is one of our earliest lessons, 
taught at the mother's knee, even with the alphabet, — 
" >S' is a sluggard," — confirmed by the maxims of Poor 
Eichard, printed at the end of almanacs, and stamped 
on handkerchiefs, — further enforced by the examples 
of the copy-book, as the young fingers first learn to join 
words together by the magical art of writing. Fable 
comes in aid of precept, and the venerable figure of 
Time is depicted to the receptive, almost believing, 
imagination of childhood, as winged, and also bald on 
the top and back of the head, with a single tuft of hair 
on the forehead, signifying that whoso would detain it 
must seize it by the forelock. With such lessons and 
pictures the child is trained. Moralist, preacher, and 
poet also enforce these teachings ; and the improve- 
ment of time, the importance of indiistry, and the 
excellence of labor besome commonplaces of exhorta- 
tion. 

The value of time has passed into a proverb, — " Time 
is money." It is so because its employment brings 
money. But it is more. It is knowledge. Still more, 
it is virtue. Nor is it creditable to the character of the 
world that the proverb has taken this material and 
mercenary complexion, as if money were the highest 



186 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

good and the strongest recommendation. Time is more 
than money. It brings what money cannot purchase. 
It has in its lap aU the learning of the Past, the spoils 
of Antiquity, the priceless treasures of knowledge. 
Who would barter these for gold or silver ? But knowl- 
edge is a means only, and not an end. It is valuable be- 
cause it promotes the welfare, the development, and the 
progress of man. And the highest value of time is not 
even in knowledge, but in the opportunity of doing 
good. 

Time is opportunity. Little or much, it may be the 
occasion of usefulness. It is the point desired by the 
philosopher where to plant the lever that shall move 
the world. It is the napkin in which are wi-apped, 
not only the talent of silver, but the treasures of knowl- 
edge and the fruits of virtue. Saving time, we save all 
these. Employing time to the best advantage, we exer- 
cise a true thrift. Here is a wise parsimony ; here is a 
sacred avarice. To each of us the passing day is of the 
same dimensions, nor can any one by taking thought 
add a moment to its hours. But though unable to ex- 
tend their duration, he may swell them with works. 

It is customary to say, " Take care of the small sums, 
and the large wiU take care of themselves." With equal 
wisdom and more necessity may it be said, " Watch the 
minutes, and the hours and days will be safe." The 
moments are precious ; they are gold filings, to be care- 
fully preserved and melted into the rich ingot. 

Time is the measure of life on earth. Its enjoyment is 
life itself. Its divisions, its days, its hours, its minutes, 
are fractions of this heavenly gift. Every moment that 
flies over our heads takes from the future and gives to 
the irrevocable past, shortenmg by so much the measure 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 18? 

of our days, abridging by so much the means of useful- 
ness committed to our hands. Before the voice which 
now addresses you shall die away in the air, another 
hour will have passed, and we shall all have advanced 
by another stage towards the final goal on eartli. 
Waste or sacrifice of time is, then, waste or sacrifice 
of life itself: it is partial suicide. 

The moments lost in listlessness or squandered in 
unprofitable dissipation, gathered into aggregates, are 
hours, days, weeks, months, years. The daily sacrifice 
of a single . hour during a year comes at its end to 
thirty-six working days, allowing ten hours to the day, — 
an amount of time, if devoted exclusively to one object, 
ample for the acquisition of important knowledge, and 
for the accomplishment of inconceivable good. Imagine, 
if you please, a solid month dedicated, without interrup- 
tion, to a single purpose, — to the study of a new language, 
an untried science, an unexplored field of history, a fresh 
department of philosophy, or to some new sphere of 
action, some labor of humanity, some godlike charity, — 
and what visions must not rise of untold accumulations 
of knowledge, of unnumbered deeds of goodness ! Wlio 
of us does not each day, in manifold ways, sacrifice these 
precious moments, these golden hours ? 

There is a legend of Mohammed which teaches how 
much may be crowded into a moment. It is said that 
he was suddenly taken up by an angel, and borne be- 
yond the flaming bounds of space, where he beheld the 
wonders of Heaven and HeU, the bliss of the faithful 
and the torments of the damned in measureless variety, 
and was then returned to the spot of earth from wliicli 
he had been lifted, — all in so short a time that the 
water had not entirely run out of the pitcher which 



188 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

he let fall from his hands when he was borne up- 
wards. But actual life furnishes illustrations of greater 
point. It is related of a celebrated French jurist, one 
of the ornaments of the magistracy, that he composed a 
learned and important work in the quarter hours that 
draggled between dinner ordered and dinner served. 
Napoleon directed one of his generals to move on a 
battery of the enemy, although reinforcements were in 
sight, saying, " It will take them fifteen minutes to 
reach the point ; I have always observed that these 
fifteen minutes decide great battles." In the currents 
of common life they are often as decisive as in the 
heady fight. 

It would be easy, from literary and political history, 
from the lives of all who have excelled in any way, 
to accumulate illustrations of the power of industry. 
Among those who have achieved what the world calls 
greatness, the list might be extended from Julius Csesar 
to Napoleon, whose feats of labor are among the mar- 
vels of history. Nor should we forget Alfred, the father 
of English civilization, whose better fame testifies also 
to the wise employment of time. Our ovm country, 
this very town, furnishes a renowned example in Ben- 
jamin Franklin. Here I pronounce a name which has 
its own familiar echoes. His early studies, when a print- 
er's boy, — his singular experience of life in its ex- 
tremes, — sounding in childhood all the humilities, as 
in maturer years he reached all that was exalted in 
place, — the truant boy become a teacher to the nations, 
and pouring light upon the highest schools of science 
and philosophy, touching the throne with hands once 
blackened by types and ink, — all this must be pres- 
ent to you. His first and constant talisman was indus- 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 189 

try. The autobiography in which he has recorded his 
progress in knowledge is a remarkable composition, 
where the style flows like a brook of transparent water, 
without a ripple on its smooth surface. Perhaps no 
single book has had greater influence in quickening 
labor and the rigid economy of time, overcoming all 
obstacles, among those whose early life has been chilled 
by penuiy or darkened by neglect. But we must quali- 
fy our praise. It cannot fail to be regretted that the 
lessons taught by Franklin are so little spiritual in 
their character, — that they are so material, so mun- 
dane, so full of pounds, shillings, and pence. " The 
Almighty Dollar," now ruling here with sovereign sway 
and masterdom, was placed on the throne by Poor Eich- 
ard. ^^^len shall it be dethroned ? When shall the 
thoughts, the aspirations, the politics of the land be 
lifted from the mere greed of gain, with an appetite 
that grows by what it feeds on, into the serene region 
of inflexible justice and universal benevolence ? Could 
we imagine the thrift, the worldly wisdom, the practical 
sense, the inventive genius of Pranklin, softened, exalted, 
illumined, inspired by the imagination, the grace, the 
sensibility, the heavenly spirit of Channing, we should 
behold a character under whose influence our country 
would advance at once in all spiritual as well as mate- 
rial prosperity, — where money should not be the " main 
chance," but truth, justice, righteousness, drawing in 
their train all the goods of earth, and reflecting all the 
blessings of heaven. Then would time be the best ally 
of man, and no day would pass without some good 
thing done. 

Among the contemporaries of FrankKn in England, 
unlike in the patrician circumstances of his birth, edu- 



190 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

cation, and life, most unlike in his topics of thought 
and study, but resembling him in the diligence and 
constancy of labor marking his career, was Edward Gib- 
bon, author of the History of the Decline and Fall of 
the Eoman Empire. He also has left behind an auto- 
biography, — in style and tone how unlike the simple 
narrative of Franklin ! — where in living colors are de- 
picted the labors and delights of a scholar's life. This 
book has always seemed to me, more than any other in 
the English language, calcidated to enkindle the love 
of learning, and to traio. the student for its pursuit. 
Here he wUl find an example and guide in the various 
fields of scholarship, who will challenge his admiration 
in proportion as he shares the same generous aspiration. 
The autobiographies of Gibbon and Franklin are comple- 
ments of each other. They teach the same lesson of 
labor and study in different spheres of life and to dif- 
ferent classes of minds. Both have rare excellence 
as compositions, and constitute important contributions 
to that literature which illustrates the employment of 
time. 

There is another character, of our own age, whose ex- 
ample is, perhaps, more direct and practical, especially 
as described by himself : I mean William Cobbett. To 
appreciate this example, you must know something of 
his long life, from early and inauspicious youth to vener- 
able years, filled always with labors various, incessant, 
and Hercidean, under which his elastic nature seemed to 
rise with renewed strength. He died in 1835, supposed 
to be seventy-three years of age, although the exact 
date of his birth was never known, and such was the 
position he had acquired that he was characterized at 
that time, even by hostile pens, as one of the most re- 



THE EMPLOYMEXT OF TIME. 191 

markable men whom England, fertile in intellectual ex- 
cellence, ever produced. The lapse of little more than 
ten years has begun to obscure his memory. It will 
be for posterity to determine whether he has connected 
his name with those great causes of human improve- 
ment which send their influence to future ages, and are 
destined to be the only consideration on which fame 
hereafter will be awarded or preserved. But the mem- 
ory of his labors, and the voice of encouragement to the 
poor and lowly which sounds throughout his writings, 
must always be refreshing to those whose hopes of 
future usefulness are clouded by discouragement and 
poverty. There can be none so humble as not to derive 
succor from his example. He was conscious even to 
vanity of his own large powers, and at the close of 
his long career surveyed his succession of labors — the 
himdred volumes from his sleepless pen, and the wide 
influence they had exercised — with the seK-gratulation 
of the miser in counting his stores of gold and silver. 

The son of a poor farmer, at the age of twenty he 
ran away from the paternal acres, and became for a short 
time copying-clerk to a lawyer, but, tiring soon of these 
duties, he enlisted in the army and found liimself pri- 
vate in a regiment at Chatham, which was ordered to 
America. His merit soon raised him to the rank of cor- 
poral, and then of sergeant-major. At this time he saw 
his future wife and tlie mother of his children. The 
circumstances of this meeting, as described by himself 
in his own peculiar style, belong to this picture, while 
they illustrate the subject. "When I first saw my 
wife," he writes, " she was thirteen years old, and I was 
within a month of twenty-one. She was the daughter 
of a sergeant-major of artillery, and I was the sergeant- 



192 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

major of a regiment of foot, both stationed in forts near 
the city of St. John, in the province of New Bruns- 
wick. I sat in the same room Avith her for about an 
hour, in company with others, and I made up my mind 
that she was the very girl for me. That I thought her 
beautiful is certain, for that I had always said should be 
an indispensable qualification ; but I saw in her what I 
deemed marks of that sobriety of conduct of which I 
have said so much, and which has been by far the great- 
est blessing of my Kfe. It was now dead of winter, and 
of course the snow several feet deep on the ground, and 
the weather piercing cold. It was my habit, when I had 
done my morning's writing, to go out at break of day to 
take a walk on a hill at the foot of which our barracks 
lay. In about three mornings after I had first seen her, I 
had, by an invitation to breakfast with me, got up two 
young men to join me in my walk, and our road lay by 
the house of her father and mother. It was hardly light, 
but she was out on the snow, scrubbing out a washing- 
tub. ' That 's the girl for me ! ' said I, when we had got 
out of her hearing."^ To her he plighted faith. After 
eight years of service in the army, and his return to 
England, he obtained his discharge and married her. 

In 1792 Cobbett came to the United States, living 
in Philadelphia, where he was bookseller, publisher, au- 
thor, and libeller by profession. As " Peter Porcupine " 
he is well known. He shot his sharp and malicious 
quills at the most estimable characters, — Franklin, Jef- 
ferson, Gallatin, Priestley, and even the sacred name 
of Washington. A heavy judgment for libel hanging 
suspended over him, he fled from America, and from 
the justice he had aroused, to commence in England a 

1 Life, pp. 44, 45. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 193 

fresh career of unquestioned talents, unaccountable in- 
consistency, and inexhaustible malignity. 

On his arrival in England Cobbett attached himself 
warmly to the interests of Mr. Pitt, in whose behalf he 
wielded for a while his untiring pen. At the same 
time he commenced business as bookseller, in which 
he soon failed. In politics he showed himself more 
Tory than the most Tory. Mr. Windham, in the House 
of Commons, made the remarkable declaration, that " he 
merited a statue of gold." ^ His Letters on the Treaty of 
Amiens produced a sensation throughout Europe.^ The 
celebrated Swiss historian, Von Miiller, pronounced them 
more eloquent than anything since Demosthenes. How 
transitory is fame ! These Letters, once so much ad- 
mired, which, with profane force, helped to burst open 
the Temple of Janus, happily closed by peace, are now 
forgotten. I do not know that they are to be found 
in any library in this part of the country. 

It was at this period that he commenced his "Weekly 
Political Register," which for more than tliirty years was 
the vehicle of his opinions and feelings. But the pungent 
Toryism with which he began his career was changed 
into a more pungent Liberalism ; from the oil of Conser- 
vatism he passed to the vinegar of Dissent. He saw 
all things in a new light, and with unsparing criticism 
pursued the men he had recently extoUed. His Ish- 
mael pen was turned against every man. He wrote 
with the hardihood of a pirate and the ardor of a 
patriot. At length he was convicted of libel, and sen- 
tenced to pay a fine of a thousand pounds and to be 

1 Speech, August 5, 1803: Hansard, XXXVI. 1679. 

2 Letters to the Right Honorable Lord Hawkesbury and to the Right 
Honorable Henry Addington, on the Peace with Buonaparte ; to which is 
added an Appendix. London, 1802. 

VOL. I. — 13 



194 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME, 

imprisoned for two years. This severe incarceration he 
never forgave or forgot. With thoughts of vengeance 
he emerged from his prison to unaccustomed popularity. 
His " Eegister," into which, as into a seething caldron, 
he weekly poured the venom of liis pen, reached the 
unprecedented circulation of one hundred thousand, an 
audience greater than was ever before addressed by 
saint or sinner. The soul swells in the contemplation 
of the good that might have been wrought by a spirit 
elevated to the high purpose, having access to so many 
human hearts. His pen waxing in inveteracy, and him- 
seK becoming daily more obnoxious to the Govern- 
ment, in 1817, by timely flight, he withdrew from the 
threatening storm, and sought shelter in the United 
States, where he lingered, principally on Long Island, 
tni 1819, when he wandered back to England, there to 
renew his strifes and ruffle again the waters of political 
controversy. As late as 1831, he was, for the eighth 
time in his life, brought into court on a charge of libel. 
The veteran libeller, then seventy years of age, de- 
fended himself in a speech which occupied six hours. 
The jury did not agree, — six being for conviction and 
six for acquittal. 

At the general election for the Eeform Parliament in 
1832, Cobbett was chosen member for the borough of 
Oldham, which seat he held until June 18, 1835, when 
his long, active, and disturbed career was closed by 
death, leaving her whom he had loved at the wash- 
tub, amid the snows of New Brunswick, his honored 
widow. 

His character was unique. He was the most em- 
phatic of writers, perhaps the most voluminous. He 
was foremost in the crew of haters ; he was the paragon 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 195 

of turncoats. Sentiments uttered at one period were 
denied at another. At one time he wrote of Paine 
as follows : " He has done all the mischief he can in 
the world, and whether his carcass is at last to be 
suffered to rot on the earth or to be dried in the air 
is of very little consequence. Whenever or wherever 
he breathes his last, he will excite neither sorrow nor 
compassion ; no friendly hand will close his eyes." ^ 
Later in life, on his second visit to America, he ex- 
humed the bones of the man he had thus reviled, and 
bore them in idolatrous custody to the land of his 
birth. 

Besides his multitudinous political writings, which in 
number remind us of the cloud of " locusts warping on 
the eastern wind," he produced several works of great 
and deserved popularity, — a Grammar of the French 
Language, written while he rocked the cradle of his first 
child, — a Grammar of the English Language, — a little 
volume, " Advice to Young Men," — and a series of 
sketches entitled " Eural Eides," in which he gave un- 
mixed pleasure to friend and foe. 

I have dwelt thus long upon the life and character of 
Cobbett, as a proper introduction to the picture of his 
marvellous industry, which I am able to present in his 
own language. The labor which he accomplished testi- 
fies ; but in his writings he often refers to it with peculiar 
pride. He tells us how he learned grammar. Writing a 
fair hand, he was employed as copyist by the command- 
ant of the garrison where he first enlisted. In his auto- 
biography he says : " Being totally ignorant of the rules 
of grammar, I necessarily made many mistakes. The 

1 Life of Thomas Paine : Political Censor, No. V., Sept., 1796 : Porcu- 
pine's Works, Vol. IV. pp. 112, 113. 



196 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

Colonel saw my deficiency, and strongly recommended 
study. I procured me a Lowtli's Grammar, and applied 
myseK to the study of it with unceasing assiduity. The 
pains I took cannot be described. I wrote the whole 
Grammar out two or three times ; I got it by heart ; I 
repeated it every morning and every evening ; and when 
on guard, I imposed on myself the task of saying it all 
over once, every time I was posted sentinel." ^ Would 
that all posted as sentinels were as well employed as say- 
ing over to themselves the English grammar ! If every 
common soldier could do this, there would be little fear 
of war. The evil spirits were supposed to be driven 
away by an Ave Maria or a word of prayer. The gram- 
mar would be as potent. "Terrible as an army with 
grammars " would be more than " Terrible as an army 
with banners." 

In his "Advice to Young Men" Cobbett says: "For my 
part, I can truly say that I owe more of my great labors 
to my strict adherence to the precepts that I have here 
given you than to all the natural abilities with which I 
have been endowed ; for these, whatever may have been 
their amount, would have been of comparatively little 
use, even aided by great sobriety and abstinence, if I 
had not in early life contracted the blessed habit of 
husbanding well my time. To this, more tlian to any 
other thing, I owed my very extraordinary promotion in 
the army. I was always ready. If I had to mount 
guard at ten, I was ready at nine ; never did any man or 

any thing wait one moment for me My custom was 

this : to get up in summer at daylight, and in winter at 
four o'clock ; shave, dress, even to the putting of my 
sword-belt over my shoulder, and having my sword ly- 

1 Life, p. 38. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 197 

ing on the table before me, ready to hang by my side. 
Then I ate a bit of cheese or pork and bread. Then I 
prepared my report, wliich was filled up as fast as the 
companies brought me in the materials. After this I 
had an hour or two to read before the time came for 
any duty out of doors." ^ 

At a later period of life, when his condition was 
entirely changed, and his name as a writer was in all 
men's mouths, he thus describes his habits. " I hardly 
ever eat more than twice a day, — when at home, never, 
— and I never, if I can well avoid it, eat any meat 
later than one or two o'clock in the day. I drink a 
little tea or milk-and-water at the usual tea-time (about 
seven o'clock). I go to bed at eight, if I can. I write 
or read from about four to about eight, and then, hungry 
as a hunter, I go to breakfast." ^ 

In another place he recounts with especial satisfaction 
a conversation at which he was present, one of the 
parties to which was Sir John Sinclair, the famous ag- 
riculturist and correspondent of Washington. " I once 
heard Sir John Sinclair," he says, " ask Mr. Cochrane 
Johnstone whether he meant to have a son of his, then 
a little boy, taught Latin. ' No,' said Mr. Johnstone, 
'but I mean to do something a great deal better for 
him.' ' What is that ? ' said Sir John. ' Why,' said the 
other, ' teach him to shave with cold water and without 
a glass.' " ^ 

With this pertinacious devotion to labor, and this 
unparalleled sense of the value of time, Cobbett sur- 
rendered himseK to the blandishments of domestic life. 
The hundred-armed giant of the press, he always had an 

1 Advice to Young Men, pp. 35, 36. 2 Life, p. 137. 

3 Advice to Young Men, p. 34. 



198 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

arm for his child. " For my own part," he says, " how 
many days, how many months, all put together, have I 
spent with babies in my arms ! My time, when at 
home, and when babies were going on, was chiefly di- 
vided between the pen and the baby. I have fed them 
and put them to sleep hundreds of times, though there 
were servants to whom the task might have been trans- 
ferred. Yet I have not been effeminate; I have not 
been idle ; I have not been a waster of time." " Many 
a score of papers have I written amidst the noise of 
children, and in my whole life never bade them be 
still. When they grew up to be big enough to gallop 
about the house, I have, in wet weather, when they 
could not go out, written the whole day amidst noise 
that would have made some authors haK mad. It never 
annoyed me at all." ^ 

These passages are like windows in his life, through 
which we discern his character, where the domestic af- 
fections seem to vie with the sense of time. 

No person can become familiar with the career of 
Cobbett without recognizing regular habits of industry as 
the potent means of producing important results. Did 
the hour permit, it would be pleasant and instructive to 
review the career of another distinguished character, 
whose writings have added much to the happiness of 
his age, and whose rare feats of labor illustrate the same 
truth : I mean the author of " Waverley." There are 
points of comparison or contrast between Cobbett and 
Scott which might be presented at length. They were 
strictly contemporaries, spanning with their lives almost 
the same long tract of time. They were the most volu- 
minous authors of then- age, perhaps the most volumi- 

1 Advice to Young Men, pp. 142, 194. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 199 

nous couple of any age. Since the days of Ariosto no 
writers had been read by so many persons as was the 
fortune of each. The marvellous fecundity of Scott 
was more than matched by the prolific energy of Cob- 
bett. The fame of the Scotsman was equalled by the 
notoriety of the Englishman. If one awakened our de- 
light, we could not withhold from the other our astonish- 
ment. With Scott life was a gala and a festival, with 
beauty, wit, and bravery. With Cobbett it was a stern 
reality, perpetually crying out, like the witch in Macbeth, 
" I '11 do, I '11 do, and I '11 do." And yet Scott was hard- 
ly less careful of time than his indefatigable contempo- 
rary. His life is a lesson of industry, and the student 
may derive instruction from his example. Both sought 
in early rising the propitious hours of labor ; but the 
morning brought its rich incense to the one, and its 
vigor to the other. They departed this life within a 
short period of each other, casting and leaving behind 
their voluminous folds of authorship. The future his- 
torian will note and study these ; but the world, which 
has already dismissed Cobbett from its presence, will 
hardly cherish with enduring affection the writings of 
Scott. He lived in the Past, and, with ill-directed 
genius, sought to gild the force, the injustice, the in- 
humanity of the early ages. Cobbett lived intensely in 
the Present, and drew his inspiration from its short- 
lived controversies. For neither had Hope scattered 
from her "pictured urn" the delights of an unborn 
period, when the dignity of Humanity shall stand con- 
fessed. A greater fame than is awarded to either will 
be his who hereafter, with the imagination of the one 
and the energy of the other, without the spirit of Hate 
that animated Cobbett, without the spirit of Caste that 



200 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

prevailed in Scott, regarding life neither as a festival 
nor as a battle, forgetting Cavalier and Eoundhead alike, 
and remembering only Universal Man, shall dedicate 
the labors of a long life, not to the Past, not to the 
Present only, but also to the Future, striving to bring 
its blessings nearer to all. 

Such are some of the examples by which we learn 
the constant lesson of the value of time. For them 
genius did much, but industry went hand in hand with 
this celestial guide. 

Here the student may ask by what rule time is to 
be arranged and apportioned so as to accomplish the 
greatest results. If we interrogate the lives of our 
masters in this regard, we shall iind no uniform rule as 
to the employment of the day, or even the hours of 
repose. The great lawyer. Lord Coke, whose rare learn- 
ing and professional fame cannot render us insensible to 
his brutality of character, has preserved for the benefit 
of the young student some Latin verses setting forth 
the proper division of the day, allowing six hours for 
sleep, six for the law, four for prayers, two for meals, 
while all the rest, being six hours more, is to be la^dshed 
on the sacred muses.^ These directions are imperfectly 
reproduced in two English rhymes : — 

Six hours in sleep; in law's grave study six ; 
Four spend in prayer ; the rest on Nature fix." 

A more estimable character than Lord Coke, in whose 
life clustered literary as well as professional honors. Sir 
William Jones, himself a model of the industry he in- 
culcated, has said in a well-known distich : — 

1 " Sex horas somno, totidem des legibus sequis, 
Quatuor orabis, des epulisque duas; 
Quod siiperest ultro sacris largire camcenis." 
Co. LiTT. 64. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME, 201 

" Six h(}urs to law, to soothing slumber seven, 
Ten to the world allot, and all to Heaven." 

The one hour here unappropriated is absorbed in the 
" all to Heaven." Sir Matthew Hale, another eminent 
name in jurisprudence, studied sixteen hours a day for 
the first two years after he commenced the law, but 
almost brought himself to the grave thereby, though of 
a strong constitution, and he afterwards came down to 
eight hours ; but he would not advise anybody to so 
much, — believing that six hours a day, with constancy 
and attention, were sufiicient, and adding, that " a man 
must use his body as he would his horse and his 
stomach, not tire him at once, but rise with an appe- 
tite." ^ Here is at once example and warning. 

Sleep is the most exacting of masters ; it must be 
obeyed. Couriers slumber on their horses ; soldiers 
drop asleep on the field of battle, e^^en amidst the din 
of war. In that famous retreat of Sir John Moore, 
English soldiers are said to have slept while still mov- 
ing. Ambition and the pride of victory yield to sleep. 
Alexander slept on the field of Arbela, and Napoleon 
on the field of Austerlitz. Bereavement and approach- 
ing death are forgotten in sleep. The convict sleeps 
in the few hours before his execution. According to 
Homer, sleep overcomes even the gods, excepting Jiipiter 
alone. Its beneficence is equal to its power ; nor has 
this ever been pictured more wonderfully than in those 
agonized words of Macbeth, where he says, — 

" Macbeth does murther sleep, the innocent sleep, — 
Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleave of care, 
The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, 
Balm of hurt minds, gi-eat Nature's second course, 
Chief nourisher in life's feast." 

1 Roscoe, Lives of Eminent British Lawyers: Notes, pp. 413, 414. 



202 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

The rule of sleep is not the same for all. There are 
some with whom its requirements are gentle : a few 
hours will suffice. But such cases are exceptional. 
The Jesuits have done much for education, but on this 
question they seem to have failed. In settling the 
system for their college at Clermont, they followed 
their physicians in a rigid rule. The latter reported 
that five hours were sufficient, six abundant, and seven 
as much as a youthful constitution could bear without 
injury. On the other hand, Cobbett, whose experience 
of life was as thorough as his diligence, says expressly : 
" Young people require more sleep than those that are 
grown up : there must be the number of hours, and that 
number cannot well be on an average less than eight; 
and if it be more in winter-time, it is all the better." ^ 
George the Third thought otherwise, at least for men. 
A tradesman, whom he had asked to call on him at 
eight o'clock in the morning, arriving behind the hour, 
the King said, " Oh ! the great Mr. B. ! Wliat sleep do 
you take, Mr. B. ? " " Why, please your Majesty, I am 
a man of regular habits ; I usually take eight hours." 
" Eight hours ! " said the King ; " that 's too much, too 
much. Six hours' sleep is enough for a man, seven for 
a woman, and eight for a fool, — Mr. B., eight for a 
fool." The opinions of physiologists would probably 
incline with Mr. B., the tradesman, contrary to this 
royal autliority. 

It is impossible to lay down any universal rule with 
regard to the proper portion of time for sleep. Each 
constitution of body has its own habits ; nor can any 
rule be drawn from the lives of the most industrious, ex- 
cept of economy of time, according to the capacity of 

1 Advice to Young Men, p. 33. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 203 

each person. The great German scholar Heyne, who 
has shed such lustre on classical learning, in the order 
of his early studies allowed himself, for six months, only 
two nights' sleep in a week. The eccentric Kobert Hill, 
of England, who passed his life as a tailor, but by per- 
severing labor made rare attainments in Latin, Greek, 
and Hebrew, was accustomed to sit up very late into 
the night, or else to rise by two or three o'clock in the 
morning, that he might find time • for reading without 
prejudice to his trade, and although of a weakly con- 
stitution, he accustomed himself to do very well with 
only two or three hours of sleep in the twenty-four, and 
he lived to be seventy-eight. But this is a curiosity 
rather than an example. Such also is the story of the 
Eoman Emperor Caligula, who slept only three hours. 
In the list of men sleeping only four hours is Frederick 
of Prussia, John Hunter, the surgeon, Napoleon, and 
Alexander von Humboldt. That gallant cavalier and 
accomplished historian, renowned for genius and mis- 
fortune. Sir Walter Kaleigh, was accustomed, even im- 
der the pressure of his arduous career, to devote four 
hours daily to reading and study, while he allowed only 
five for sleep. Probably all of us, in our own personal 
experience, have known men of study and labor who, in 
the ardor of their pursuit, have foregone what is thought 
the ordinary sleep, being late to bed and early to rise, 
reducing the night to a narrow isthmus of time. Others 
there are with a vivacity of industry which acts with 
intensity and rapidity, requiring long periods of re- 
pose. I cannot forget that Judge Story, the person who 
has accomplished more than any one within the circle 
of my individual observation, whose life — now, alas ! 
closed by death — was thickly studded with various la- 



204 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

bors as judge, professor, and author, is a high example 
of what may be wrought by wakeful diligence, without 
denying the body any refreshment of repose. His 
habit, during the years of his greatest intellectual ac- 
tivity, was to retire always at ten o'clock and to rise at 
seven, — allowing nine hours for sleep. The tradesman 
of George the Third might have sought shelter with 
him from the royal raillery. 

Pursuing these inquiries as to the arrangement of the 
day, we find the precept, if not the example, uniform 
with regard to early rising as propitious to health and 
intellectual exertion. The old saw, " Early to bed and 
early to rise," imprints the lesson upon the mind of 
childhood. The magnificent period of Milton sounds 
in our ears : " My morning haunts are where they should 
be, at home, — not sleeping, or concocting the surfeits of 
an irregular feast, but up and stirring, — in winter often 
ere the sound of any bell awake men to labor or to de- 
votion, — in summer as oft with the bird that first rouses, 
or not much tardier, to read good authors or cause them 
to be read, till the attention be weary or memory have its 
full fraught, — then with useful and generous labors pre- 
serving the body's health and hardiness, to render light- 
some, clear, and not lumpish obedience to the mind, to the 
cause of religion, and our country's liberty." ^ Sir Walter 
Scott is less stately in his tribute to the morning, but 
he agrees with Milton : " The half-hour between waking 
and rising has all my life proved propitious to any task 
which was exercising my invention. When I got over 
any knotty difficulty in a story, or have had in former 
times to fill up a passage in a poem, it was always when 
I first opened my eyes that the desired ideas thronged 

1 Apology for Smectjinnuus : Prose Works, Vol. I. p. 220. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 205 

upon me. This is so much the case, that I am in the 
habit of relying upon it, and saying to myself, when I 
am at a loss, ' Never mind, we shall have it at seven 
o'clock to-morrow morning.' If I have forgot a circum- 
stance, or a name, or a copy of verses, it is the same 
thing." 1 In this equal dedication to the morning Milton 
and Scott are alike, but how unlike in all else ! Milton's 
testimony is like an anthem ; Scott's like an affidavit. 

Notwithstanding these great examples and the pre- 
vailing precept, it may be doubted if the student can be 
weaned from those habits which lead him to continue 
his vigils far into the watches of the night. From 
time immemorial he has been said to " consume the mid- 
night oil," and productions marked by peculiar care are 
proverbially reputed to "smell of the lamp," never to 
breathe the odor of the morning. An ingenious inquirer 
miglit be inclined to trace in different writers, partic- 
ularly in poets, the distinctive influence of the hours 
they devoted to labor, and, perhaps, to find in Milton and 
Scott the freshness and vivid colors of the rosy-fingered 
dawn, and in Schiller and Byron the sombre shade and 
sickly glare of the lamp. Wliatever the result of such 
speculations, which might be moralized by example, the 
midnight lamp will ever be regarded as the symbol of 
labor. In the wonders it has wrought it yields only 
to the far-famed lamp of Aladdin. They who confess 
themselves among " the slaves of the lamp " say that 
there is an excitement in study, increasing as the work 
proceeds, which flames forth with new brightness at the 
close of the day and in tlie stillness of those hours 
when the world is wrapped in sleep and the student is 
the sole watcher. The heavy clock seems to toll the 

1 Diary: Lockhart's Life of Scott, Chap. VIL Vol. VL p. 227. 



206 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

midniglit hour in the church-helfry for him alone, and, 
as he catches its distant vibrations, he thinks that he 
hears the iron hoof of Time come sounding by. All 
interruptions are ended, and he is in closer companion- 
ship with his books and studies. He holds converse 
face to face with the spirits of the mighty dead, while 
the learned page and glowing verse become vocal with 
inspiring thought. The poet speaks to him with richer 
melodies, and the soul responds in new and more gen- 
erous resolves. 

It is not for me on this occasion to interpose any 
judgment on a question which comes within the pre- 
cincts of physiology. My present purpose is accom- 
plished, if I teach the husbandry of time. To this end 
I have adduced authority and example. But there are 
other considerations which enforce the lesson with per- 
suasive power. 

In the employment of time will be found the sure 
means of happiness. The laborer living by the sweat 
of his brow, and the youth toiling in perplexities of 
business or study, sighs for repose, and repines at the 
law which ordains the seeming hardship of his lot. 
He seeks happiness as the end and aim of life, but he 
does not open his mind to the important truth that 
occupation is indispensable to happiness. He shuns 
work, but he does not know the precious jewel hidden 
beneath its rude attire. Others there are who wander 
over half the globe in pursuit of what is found under 
the humblest roof of virtuous industry, in the shadow 
of every tree planted by one's own hand. The poet has 
said, — 

" The best and sweetest far are toil-created gains." 

But this does not disclose the whole truth. There is 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 207 

in useful labor its owa exceeding great reward, without 
regard to gain. 

The happiness found in occupation is the frequent 
theme of the moralist, but nobody has illustrated it 
with more power than Luther in his Table-Talk, where 
he presents an image of the human mind which has 
always seemed to me one of the most striking in the 
whole range of literature. Let me give it in the strong 
and fibrous diction of the ancient translation from the 
original Latin. 

" The heart of an humane creature is like a mill-stone 
in a mill : when corn is shaked thereupon, it runneth 
about, rubbeth and grindeth it to meal ; but if no corn 
bee present (the stone nevertheless running still about), 
then it rubbeth and grindeth it seK tliinner, and becom- 
eth less and smaller : even so the heart of an humane 
creature will bee occupied ; if it hath not the works 
of its vocation in hand to bee busied therein, then com- 
eth the Divel and shooteth thereinto tribulations, heavie 
cogitations and vexations, as then the heart consumeth 
it self with melancholic, insomuch that it must starv 
and famish." ^ That it may not starve and famish, it 
must be supplied with something to do ; and its hap- 
piness will be in proportion to the completeness with 
which all its faculties are brought into activity. 

It is according to God's Providence that there should 
be pleasure in the exercise of all the powers with which 
we are blessed. There is pleasure in seeing the sights 
and catching the sounds of Nature. There is pleasure 
in the exercise of the limbs, even in extending an arm 

1 Dr. Martin Luther's Divine Discourses at his Table, etc., translated out 
of the High Germane into the English Tongue by Capt. Henrie Bell, Lon- 
don, 1652 : Chap. XXXVH., Of Tribulation and Temptation, p. 397. 



208 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

or moving a muscle. Higher degrees of pleasure are 
allotted to the exercise of the higher faculties. There 
is pleasure in the acquisition of knowledge, — pleasure 
in the performance of duty, — pleasure in all the labors 
by which we promote our own progress, — pleasure 
higher still in those by which we promote the progress 
of others. 

If this be so, — and surely it wiU not be doubted, — • 
then is it our duty to regulate our habits so as to culti-- 
vate all the faculties, to the end that Time shall yield 
its choicest fruits. When I speak of all the faculties, I 
mean all those which enter into and form the character 
created in the image of God, not merely those which 
minister to the selfish ends of life. There are faculties 
for business ; there are others which open to us the 
avenues of knowledge, — others which connect us by 
chains soft as silk, but strong as iron, to the social 
and domestic circle, — others still which reveal to us, 
in vistas of infinite variety and inconceivable extension, 
our duties to God and man. Nor can any one reason- 
ably persuade himself that he has done his whole duty, 
and employed his time to the best purpose, who has 
neglected any of these, although he may have sacrificed 
much to the others. Success in business will not com- 
pensate for neglect of general culture ; nor will attend- 
ance on " the stated preaching of the gospel " atone for 
a want of interest in the great charities of life, in the 
education of the people, in the sufferings of the poor, in 
the sorrows of the slave. 

There is a tendency to absorption by one pursuit or 
one idea, against which we must especially guard. The 
mere man of business is " a man of one idea," ^ and his 

1 At the date of this Lecture the Abolitionist was constantly taunted, 
especially by business men, as " the man of one idea." 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 209 

solitary idea has its root in no generous or humane de- 
sires, but in selfishness. He lives for himself alone. 
He may send his freights to the most distant quarters 
of the earth, and receive therefrom returning argosies, 
but his real horizon is restricted to the narrow circle of 
his own personal interests ; nor does his worldly nature, 
elated by the profits of cent per cent, see with eye of 
sympathy, in cotton sold or sugar bought, the drops of 
blood falling from the unhappy slaves out of whose la- 
bor they were wrung. In the mere man of business the 
individual is lost in the profession or calling, thinking 
only of that, and caring little for other things of life. 
He is known by the character that business impresses 
upon him. He is untiring in its pursuit, but with no 
true progress, for each day renews its predecessor. 
Benevolence calls, but he is deaf, or satisfies his con- 
science by a dole of money. Literature exhibits her 
charms, but he is insensible. And innocent recreation 
makes her pleasant appeal, but he will not listen. He 
is absorbed, engrossed, filled in every vein by the "one 
idea " of business with new methods of adding to his 
increasing gains, as the mouth of the money-seeking 
Crassus was filled by the Parthians with molten gold. 

We learn to deride the pedant who sacrifices every- 
thing to the accumulation of empty learning, which he 
displays at all times, as a peddler his wares. The im- 
age of Dominie Sampson, in Scott's novel of " Guy Man- 
nering," is a happy scarecrow to frighten us from his 
" one idea." But the merchant whose only talk is of 
markets, the farmer whose only talk is of bullocks, and 
the lawyer whose only talk is of his cases, are all Domi- 
nie Sampsons in their way. They have all missed that 
completeness and harmony of development essential to 

VOL. I. — 14 



210 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

the balance of the faculties and to the best usefulness. 
They have become richer in this world's goods ; but 
they have sacrificed what money cannot supply, — a gen- 
eral intelligence, an independence of calling or position, 
and a catholic, liberal spirit. In the prejudices engen- 
dered by exclusive devotion to a single pursuit, they 
have lost one of the most important attributes of man, 
— the power to receive and appreciate truth. 

It is a common saying, handed down with reverence 
in my own profession, where it is attested at once by 
Bacon and by Coke, that "every man owes a debt to 
his profession." If by this is meant that every man 
should seek to elevate his profession, and to increase its 
usefulness, the saying is a truism, although valuable as 
at least one remove from individual selfishness. But is 
it not too often construed so as to- exclude exertion in 
any other walk, or to serve as a cloak for indifference 
to other things ? Important as this debt may be, — and 
I will not disparage it, — not for this alone are we sent 
into the world. There are other debts which must not 
be postponed. Man was not thus fearfully and won- 
derfully made, — the cunningest pattern of excelling 
Nature, — endowed with infinite faculties, — traversing 
with the angels the blue floor of Heaven, — ranging 
with Hght from system to system of the Universe, — 
descending to the earth and receiving in bountiful lar- 
gess aU its hoarded treasures, — girdling the globe with 
the peaceful embrace of commerce, — imposing chains 
even upon the lawless sea, — making the winds and 
elements do his bidding, — summoning to his company 
all that is and all that has been the good and great of 
all times, exemplars of truth, liberty, and virtue, all 
the grand procession of history, — formed to throb at 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 211 

every deed of generosity and self-sacrifice, and to send 
forth Ids sympathies wider and sweeter than any 
south-wind blowing over beds of violets, until they 
reach the most distant sufferer, — formed for the acqui- 
sition of knowledge and of science, — gifted to enjoy 
the various feast of letters and art, the breathing can- 
vas and marble, the infinite many-choired voices of all 
the sons of genius who have written or spoken, the 
beauty of mountain, field, and river, the dazzling dra- 
pery of the winter snow, the glory of sunset, the blush- 
ing of the rose, — man was not made with all these 
capacities, looking before and after, spanning the vast 
outstretched Past, penetrating the vaster unfathomable 
Future, with all its images of beauty, merely to follow 
a profession or a trade, merely to be a merchant, a law- 
yer, a mechanic, a soldier, 

" So God created man in his own image ; in the im- 
age of God created he him." The image of God is in 
the soul, and the yoimg must take heed that it is not 
effaced by the neglect of any of the trusts they have 
received. They must bear in mind that there are debts 
other than to their profession or business, which, like 
gratitude, it will ever be their pleasure, "still paying, 
still to owe," — which can be properly discharged only 
by the best employment of all the faculties with which 
they are blessed, — so that life shall be improved by 
culture and filled with works for the good of man. 

In no respect would I weaken any just attachment 
to the business of one's choice. Goethe advised every 
one to read daily a short poem ; and in the same spirit 
would I refine and elevate business by the chastening 
influence of other pursuits, by enlarging the intelligence, 
by widening the sphere of observation and interest, by 
awakening new sympathies. 



212 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

In the faithful husbandry of time, in the aggregation 
of aU its particles of golden sand, is the first stage of 
individual progress. With the living spirit of industry, 
the student will find his way easy. Difficulties cannot 
permanently obstruct his resolute career. He will re- 
member " rare Ben Jonson," one of England's admired 
and most learned bards, working as a bricklayer with a 
trowel in his hand and a book in his pocket, — Burns, 
wooing his muse as he followed the plough on the moun- 
tain-side, — the beloved German Jean Paul, composing 
his earliest works by the music of the simmering kettles 
in his mother's humble kitchen, — and Franklin, while 
a printer's boy, straitened by small means, beginning 
those studies and labors which make him an example to 
mankind. 

Seek, then, occupation ; seek labor ; seek to employ 
all the faculties, whether in study or conduct, — not in 
words only, but in deeds also, mindful that " words are 
the daughters of Earth, but deeds are the sons of Heaven." 
So shall you eat of that fabled fruit growing on the 
banks of the river of Delight, whereby men gain a 
blessed course of life without one moment of sadness. 
So shall your days be filled with usefulness, — 

" And when old Time shall lead you to your end, 
Goodness and you fill up one monument." 

There is a legend of Friar Eoger Bacon, so conspic- 
uous in what may be called the mythology of modern 
science, which enforces the importance of seizing the 
present moment ; nor could I hope to close this appeal 
with anything better calculated to impress upon all the 
lesson I have sought to teach. With wizard skill he 
had succeeded in constructing a brazen head, which, by 
unimaginable contrivance, after unknown lapse of time. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 213 

was to speak and declare important knowledge. Weaiy 
with watching for the auspicious moment, wliich had 
been prolonged through successive weeks, he had sought 
the refreshment of sleep, leaving his man Miles to ob- 
serve the head, and to awaken him at once, if it should 
speak, that he might not fail to interrogate it. Shortly 
after he had sunk to rest, the head spake these words. 
Time is. But the foolish guardian heeded them not, 
nor the commands of his master, whom he allowed to 
slumber unconscious of the auspicious moment. Anoth- 
er haK-hour passed and the head spake the words. Time 
was, which Miles still heeded not. Another haK-hour 
passed, and the head spake yet other words. Time is past, 
and straightway fell to the earth, shivered in pieces, 
with a terrible crash and strange flashes of fire, so that 
Miles was haK dead with fear ; and his master awoke 
to behold the workmanship of liis cunning hand and 
the hopes he had builded thereupon shattered, while the 
voice from the brazen throat still sounded in his ears, 
Time is past ! 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE LATE 
JOHN PICKERING. 

Article in the Law Reporter of June, 1846, 



IT was a remark of Lord Brougham, illustrated by his 
own crowded life, that the complete performance 
of all the duties of an active member of the British 
Parliament might be joined to a full practice at the bar. 
The career of the late Mr. Pickering illustrates a more 
grateful truth : that the mastery of the law as a science 
and the constant performance of all the duties of a prac- 
titioner are not incompatible with the studies of the 
most various scholarship, — that the lawyer and the 
scholar may be one. He dignified the law by the suc- 
cessful cultivation of letters, and strengthened the 
influence of these elegant pursuits by becoming their 
representative in the concerns of daily life and in the 
labors of his profession. And now that this living ex- 
ample of excellence is withdrawn, we feel a sorrow 
which words can only faintly express. We would de- 
vote a few moments to the contemplation of what he 
did and what he was. The language of exaggeration is 
forbidden by the modesty of his nature, as it is rendered 
unnecessary by the multitude of his virtues. 

John Pickering, whose recent death we deplore, was 
bom in Salem, Februaiy 7, 1777, at the darkest and 



THE LATE JOHN PICKERING. 215 

most despondent period of the Eevolution. His father, 
Colonel Pickering, was a man of distinguished charac- 
ter and an eminent actor in public affairs, whose name 
belongs to the history of our country. Of his large 
family of ten children John was the eldest.^ His dil- 
igence at school was a source of early gratification to 
his family, and gave augury of future accomplishments. 
An authentic token of this character, beyond any tra- 
dition of partial friends, is afforded by a little book 
entitled "Letters to a Student in the University of 
Cambridge, Massachusetts, by John Clarke, Minister of 
a Church in Boston," printed in 1796, and in reality 
addressed to him. The first letter begins with an hon- 
orable allusion to his early improvement. " Your supe- 
rior qualifications for admission into the University give 
you singular advantages for the prosecution of your 

studies You are now placed in a situation to 

become, what you have often assured me is your ambi- 
tion, a youth of learning and mrtueV The last letter 
of the volume concludes with benedictions, which did 
not fall as barren words upon the heart of the youthful 
pupil. " May you," says Dr. Clarke, " be one of those 
sons who do honor to their literary parent. The union 
of virtue, and science will give you distinction at the 
present age, and wiU tend to give celebrity to the name 
of Harvard. You will not disappoint the friends who 
anticipate your improvements." They who remember 
his college days still dweU with fondness upon his ex- 
emplary character and his remarkable scholarship. He 
received his degree of Bachelor of Arts at Cambridge 
in 1796. 

1 The reporter, Octavius Pickering, was so named from his being the 
idghih child. 



216 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

On leaving the University he went to Philadelphia, 
at that time the seat of government, his father being 
Secretary of State. Here he commenced the study of 
the law under Mr. Tilghman, afterwards the distin- 
guished Chief Justice of Pennsylvania, and one of the 
lights of American jurisprudence. But his professional 
lucubrations were soon suspended by his appointment, 
in 1797, as Secretary of Legation to Portugal. In this 
capacity he resided at Lisbon for two years, during 
which time he became familiar with the language and 
literature of the country. Later in life, when his ex- 
tensive knowledge of foreign tongues opened to him 
the literature of the world, he recurred with peculiar 
pleasure to the language of Camoens and Pombal. 

From Lisbon he passed to London, where, at the close 
of the last century, he became, for about two years, the 
private secretary of our Minister, Mr. King, residing in 
the family and enjoying the society and friendship of 
this distinguished representative of his country. Here he 
was happy in meeting with his classmate and attached 
friend, Dr. James Jackson, of Boston, then in London, 
pursuing those medical studies whose ripened autumnal 
fruits of usefulness and eminence he still lives to en- 
joy. In pleasant companionship they perambulated the 
thoroughfares of the great metropolis, enjoying together 
its shows and attractions ; in pleasant companionship 
they continued ever afterwards, till death severed the 
ties of long life. 

Mr. Pickering's youth and inexperience in the profes- 
sion to which he afterwards devoted his days prevented 
his taking any special interest, at this period, in the 
courts or in Parliament. But there were several of the 
judges who made a strong impression on his mind ; 



THE LATE JOHN PICKEEING. 217 

nor did he ever cease to remember the vivacious elo- 
quence of Erskine or the commanding oratory of Pitt. 

Meanwhile, his father, being no longer in the public 
service, had returned to Salem ; and thither the son fol- 
lowed, in 1801, resuming the study of the law, under 
the direction of Mr. Putnam, afterwards a learned and 
beloved Judge of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, 
whose rare fortune it has been to rear two pupils whose 
fame will be among the choicest possessions of our 
country, — Story and Pickering. In due time he was 
admitted to the bar, and commenced the practice of the 
law in Salem. 

Here begins the long, unbroken series of his labors in 
literature and philology, running side by side with the 
daily, untiring business of his profession. It is easy to 
believe, that, notwithstanding his Tindissembled predilec- 
tion for jurisprudence as a science, he was drawn towards 
its ^practice by the compulsion of duty rather than b}'' 
any attraction it possessed for him. Not removed by 
fortune from the necessity, to which Dr. Johnson so 
pathetically alludes, of providing for the day that was 
passing over him, he could indulge his taste for study 
only in hours secured by diligence from the inroads of 
business or refused to the seductions of pleasure. Since 
the oration for Archias, perhaps no lawyer ever lived 
who could have uttered with greater truth the inspiring 
words with which, in that remarkable production, the 
Roman orator confessed and vindicated the cultivation 
of letters : " Me autem quid pudeat, qui tot annos ita 
vivo, judices, ut ab nuUius unquam me tempore aut 
commodo aut otium meum abstraxerit, aut voluptas avo- 
carit, aut denique somnus retardarit ? Quare quis tan- 
dem me reprehendat, aut quis milii jure succenseat, si, 



218 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

quantum cseteris ad suas res obeundas, quantum ad fes- 
tos dies ludorum celebrandos, quantum ad alias volup- 
tates, et ad ipsam requiem animi et corporis conceditur 
temporum, quantum alii tribuunt tempestivis conviviis, 
quantum denique aleae, quantum pilse, tantum miVii 
egomet ad lisec studia recolenda sumpsero ? " ^ 

In bis life may be seen two streams flowing side by 
side, as through a long tract of country : one fed by the 
fresh fountains high up in the mountain-tops, whose 
waters leap with delight on their journey to the sea ; 
while the other, having its sources low down in the 
valleys, among the haunts of men, moves with reluctant, 
though steady, current onward. 

Mr Pickering's days were passed in the performance 
of all the duties of a wide and various practice, first at 
Salem, and afterwards at Boston. He resided at the 
former place till 1827, when he removed to the me- 
tropolis, where two years afterwards he became City 
Solicitor, an office whose arduous labors he continued 
to discharge untH within a few months of his death. 
There is little worthy of notice in the ordinary inci- 
dents of professional life. What Blackstone aptly calls 
"the pert dispute" renews itself in infinitely varying 
form. Some new turn of litigation calls forth some new 
effort of learning or skill, calcidated to serve its tem- 
porary purpose, and, like the manna which fell in the 
desert, perishing on the day that beholds it. The un- 
ambitious labors of which the world knows nothing, the 
advice to clients, the drawing of contracts, the perplexi- 
ties of conveyancing furnish stiU less of interest than 
ephemeral displays of the court-room. 

The cares of his profession and the cultivation of let- 

1 Pro Archia, c. 6. 



THE LATE JOHN PICKERmG. 219 

ters left but little time for the concerns of politics. 
And yet, at different periods, he filled offices in the Legis- 
lature of Massachusetts. He was three times Eepre- 
sentative from Salem, twice Senator from Essex, once 
Senator from Suffolk, and once a member of the Exec- 
utive Council. In aU these places he commended him- 
self by the same diligence, honesty, learning, and ability 
which marked his course at the bar. The careful stu- 
dent of our legislative history will not fail to perceive 
his obhgations to Mr. Pickering, as the author of im- 
portant reports and bills. The first bill for the separa- 
tion of Maine from Massachusetts was reported to the 
Senate by him in 1816, and though the object failed 
for the time with the people of Maine, the bill is char- 
acterized by the historian of that State as " drawn with 
great ability and skill." ^ The report and accompanying 
bill on the jurisdiction and proceedings of the Courts 
of Probate, discussing and remodelling the whole sys- 
tem, were from his hand. 

In 1833 he was appointed to the vacancy, occasioned 
by the death of Professor Ashmun, in the commission 
for revising and arranging the statutes of Massachusetts, 
being associated in this important work with those emi- 
nent law;)'ers, Mr. Jackson and Mr. Stearns. The first 
part, or that entitled Of the, Internal Administration of 
the Government, corresponding substantially with Black- 
stone's division Of the Bights of Persons, was executed by 
him. This alone entitles him to be gratefully remem- 
bered, not only by those having occasion to consult the 
legislation of INIassachusetts, but by all who feel an in- 
terest in scientific jurisprudence. 

His contributions to what may be called the litera- 

1 Williamson, History of Maine, Vol. II. p. 663. 



220 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

ture of his profession were frequent. The American 
Jurist was often enriched by articles from his pen. 
Among these is a review of the valuable work of Wil- 
liams on the Law of Executors, and of Curtis's Admi- 
ralty Digest, where he examined the interesting history 
of this jurisdiction ; also an article on the Study of the 
Eoman Law, where, within a short compass, he presented 
a lucid history of this system, and the growth in Ger- 
many of the historical and didactic schools, "rival 
houses," as they may be called, in jurisprudence, whose 
long and unpleasant feud has only recently subsided. 

In the Law Eeporter for September, 1841, he published 
an article of singular merit, on National Eights and State 
Eights, being a re\dew of the case of Alexander Mc- 
Leod, recently determined in the Supreme Court of New 
York. This was afterwards republished in a pampldet, 
and extensively circulated. It is marked by uncommon 
learning, clearness, and power. The course of the courts 
of New York is handled with freedom, and the suprem- 
acy of the Government vindicated. Of all the discus- 
sions elicited by that interesting question, on which, for 
a while, seemed to hang the portentous issues of peace 
and war between the United States and Great Britain, 
that of Mr. Pickering will be admitted to take the lead, 
whether we consider its character as an elegant compo- 
sition, or as a searching review of the juridical questions 
involved. In dealing with the opinion of Mr. Justice 
Cowen, renowned for black-letter and the bibliography 
of the law, he shows himself more than a match for 
this learned Judge, even in these unfrequented fields, 
while the spirit of the publicist and jurist gives a re- 
fined temper to the whole article, which we vainly seek 
in the other production. 



THE LATE JOHN PICKERING. 221 

In the North American Eeview for October, 1840, is an 
article by him, illustrative of Conveyancing in Ancient 
Egypt, being an explanation of an Egyptian deed of a 
piece of land in hundred-gated Thebes, written on papy- 
rus, more than a century before the Christian era, with the 
impression of a seal or stamp attached, and a certificate 
of registry in the margin, in as regular a manner as the 
keeper of the registry in the County of Suffolk would 
certify to a deed of land in the City of Boston at this 
day. Jurisprudence is here adorned by scholarship. 

There is another production which, like the preceding, 
belongs to the department of literature as well as of 
jurisprudence : his Lecture on the Alleged Uncertainty 
of the Law, delivered before the Boston Society for the 
Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. Though written origi- 
nally for the general mind, which it is calculated to 
interest and instruct in no common degree, it will be 
read with equal advantage by the profound lawyer. It 
is not easy to mention any popular discussion of a jurid- 
ical character, in our language, deserving of higher re- 
gard. It was first pubHshed in the American Jurist, 
at the solicitation of the writer of this sketch, who has 
never referred to it without fresh admiration of the 
happy illustrations and quiet reasoning by which it 
vindicates the science of the law. 

In considering what Mr. Pickering accomplished out 
of his profession, we are led over wide and various 
fields of learning, where we can only hope to indicate 
his footprints, without presuming to examine or describe 
the ground. 

One of his earliest cares was to elevate the character 
of classical studies in our country. In this respect his 



222 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

own example did much. From the time he left the 
University, he was always regarded as an authority on 
topics of scholarship. But his labors were devoted 
especially to this cause. As early as 1805, in conjunc- 
tion with his friend, the present Judge White, of Salem, 
he published an edition of the Histories of Sallust with 
Latin notes and a copious index. This is one of the first 
examples, in our country, of a classic edited with schol- 
arly skill. The same spirit led liim, later in life, to 
publish in the North American Eeview, and afterwards 
in a pamphlet, " Observations on the Importance of Greek 
Literature, and the Best Method of Studying the Clas- 
sics," translated from the Latin of Professor Wyttenbach. 
In the course of the remarks with wliich he introduces 
the translation, he urges with conclusive force the im- 
portance of raising the standard of education in our 
country. " We are too apt," he says, " to consider our- 
selves as an insulated people, as not belonging to the 
great community of Europe ; but we are, in truth, just 
as much members of it, by means of a common public 
law, conmiercial intercourse, literature, a kindred lan- 
■ guage and habits, as Englishmen or Frenchmen them- 
selves are; and we must procure for ourselves the 
qualifications necessary to maintain that rank wliich we 
shaU claim as equal members of such a community." 

His Remarks on Greek Grammars, which appeared in 
the American Journal of Education in 1825, belongs to 
the same field of labor, as does also his admirable paper, 
published in 1818, in the Memoirs of the American 
Academy, on the Proper Pronunciation of the Ancient 
Greek Language.^ He maintained that it should be pro- 

1 " Observations upon the Greek Accent " is the title of an essay in the 
Royal Irish Transactions, Vol. VH., by Dr. Browne, suggested, like Mr. Pick- 



THE LATE JOHN PICKERING. 223 

nounced, as far as possible, according to the Romaic or 
modern Greek, and learnedly exposed the vicious usage 
introduced by Erasmus. His conclusions, though con- 
troverted when first presented, are now substantially 
adopted by scholars. We well remember his honest 
pleasure in a communication received within a few 
years from President Moore, of Columbia College, in 
which that gentleman, who had once opposed his views, 
announced his change, and, with the candor that be- 
comes his honorable scholarship, volunteered to them 
the sanction of his approbation. 

The Greek and English Lexicon is his work of greatest 
labor in the department of classical learning. This alone 
would entitle liim to praise from all who love liberal 
studies. With the weU-thumbed copy of this book, used 
in college days, now before us, we feel how much we are 
debtor to his learned toil. Planned early in Mr. Pick- 
ering's life, it was begun in 1814 The interruptions of 
his profession induced him to engage the assistance of 
the late Dr. Daniel Oliver, Professor of ]\Ioral and Intel- 
lectual Philosophy at Dartmouth CoUege. The work, 
proceeding slowly, was not announced by a prospectus 
Tmtil 1820, and not finally published until 1826. It was 
mainly founded on the well-known Lexicon of Schreve- 
lius, which had received the emphatic commendation of 
Vicesimus Knox, and was generally regarded as prefer- 
able to any other for the use of schools. "VMien JSIr. 
Pickering commenced his labors there was no Greek 
Lexicon with definitions in our own tongue. The Eng- 
lish student obtained his knowledge of Greek through 

ering's, by conversation with some modem Greeks, and touching upon sim- 
ilar topics. Dr. Browne is the author of the learned and somewhat antedi- 
luvian book on the Civil and Admiralty Law. 



224 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

the intervention of Latin. And it is supposed by many, 
who have not sufficiently regarded other relations of the 
subject, as we are inclined to believe, that this circuitous 
and awkward practice is a principal reason why Greek 
is so much less familiar to us than Latin. In honorable 
efforts to remove this difficulty our countryman took the 
lead. Shortly before the last sheets of his Lexicon were 
printed, a copy of a London translation of Schrevelius 
reached this country, which proved, however to be " a 
huriied performance, upon which it would not have been 
safe to rely." ^ 

Since the publication of his Lexicon, several others 
in Greek and English have appeared in England. The 
example of Germany and the learning of her scholars 
have contributed to these works. It were to be wished 
that aU of them were free from the imputation of an un- 
handsome appropriation of labors performed by others. 
The Lexicon of Dr. Dunbar, Professor of Greek in the 
University of Edinburgh, published in 1840, contains 
whole pages taken bodily — " convey, the wise it call " 
— from that of Mr. Pickering, while the Preface is con- 
tent with an acknowledgment, in very general terms, of 
obligation to the work which is copied. This is bad 
enough. But the second edition, published in 1844, 
omits acknowledgment altogether; and the Lexicon is 
welcomed by an elaborate article in the Quarterly Ke- 
view, 2 as the triumphant labor of Dr. Dunbar, " well 
known among our Northern classics as a clever man and 
an acute scholar. In almost every jpage" continues the 
reviewer, "we meet with something which bespeaks the j^cn 
of a seholar ; and we every now and then stumble on ex- 
planations of words and passages, occasionally fanciful, 

1 Preface to Pickering's Lexicon. a Vol. LXXV. p. 299. 



THE LATE JOHN PICKERING. 225 

but always sensible, and sometimes ingenious, wliich 
amply repay us for the search They prove, more- 
over, that the Professor is possessed of one quality which we 
could wish to see more general : he does not see with the 
eyes of others ; he thinks for himseK, and he seems well 
qualified to do so." Did he not see with the eyes of 
others ? The reviewer hardly supposed tliat his com- 
mendation would reach the production of an American 
lexicographer. 

In the general department of Languages and Philology 
his labors were various. Some of the publications already 
mentioned might be ranged under this head. There are 
others which remain to be noticed. The earliest is the 
work generally called The Vocabulary of Americanisms, 
being a collection of words and phrases supposed to be 
peculiar to the United States, with an Essay on the 
State of the English Language in this country. This 
originally appeared in the Memoirs of the American 
Academy, in 1815, and republished in a separate vol- 
ume, with corrections and additions, in 1816. It was 
the author's intention, had his life been spared, to print 
another edition, with the important gleanings of sub- 
sequent observation and study. Undoubtedly this work 
has exerted a beneficial influence upon the purity of our 
language. It has promoted careful habits of composition, 
and, in a certain degree, helped to guard the " well of 
English undefiled." Some of the words found in this 
Vocabulary may be traced to ancient sources of authori- 
ty ; but there are many which are beyond question pro- 
vincial and barbarous, although much used in our com- 
mon speech, — "fa:x quoque quotidiani sermonis, foeda ac 
pudenda vitia." ^ 

1 De Oratoribus Dialogus, c. 32, — sometimes attributed to Tacitns. 

VOL. I, — 15 



226 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

In the Memoirs of the American Academy for 1818 
appeared his Essay on a Uniform Orthography for the 
Indian Languages of North America. The uncertainty 
of their orthography arose from the circumstance that 
the words were collected and reduced to writing by 
scholars of different nations, who often attached differ- 
ent values to the same letter, and represented the same 
sound by different letters ; so that it was impossible to 
determine the sound of a written word, without first 
knowing through what alembic of speech it had passed. 
Thus the words of the same language or dialect, written 
by a German, a Frenchman, or an Englishman, would 
seem to belong to languages as widely different as those 
of these different people. With the hope of removing 
from the path of others the perplexities that had beset 
his own, Mr. Pickering recommended the adoption of a 
common orthography, which would enable foreigners to 
use our books without difficulty, and, on the other hand, 
make theirs easy for us. To this end, he devised an 
alphabet for the Indian languages, wliich contained the 
common letters of our alphabet, so far as practicable, a 
class of nasals, also of diphthongs, and, lastly, a number 
of compound characters, which it was supposed would 
be of more or less frequent nse in different dialects. 
With regard to this Essay, Mr. Du Ponceau said, at an 
early day, " If, as there is great reason to expect, Mr. 
Pickering's orthography gets into general use among us, 
America will have had the honor of taking the lead in 
procuring an important auxihary to philological science." ^ 

1 Notes on Eliot's Indian Grammar, Mass. Hist Coll., Second Series, Vol. 
IX. p. xi. I cannot forbear adding, that in the correspondence of Leib- 
nitz there is a proposition for a new alphabet of the Arabic, iEthiopic, 
Syriac, and similar languages, ■which may remind the reader of that of Mr. 
Pickering. Leibnitz, Opera (ed. Dutens), Vol. VI. p. 88. 



THE LATE JOHN PICKEKING. 227 

Perhaps no single paper on language, since the legendary 
labors of Cadmus, has exercised a more important in- 
fluence than this communication. Though originally com- 
posed with a view to the Indian languages of North 
America, it has been successfully followed by the mis- 
sionaries in the Polynesian Islands. In harmony with 
the principles of this Essay, the unwritten dialect of 
the Sandwich Islands, possessing, it is said, a more than 
Italian softness, was reduced to writing according to a 
systematic orthography prepared by Mr. Pickering, and 
is now employed in two newspapers published by na- 
tives. Thus he may be regarded as one of the contribu- 
tors to that civilization, under whose gentle influence 
those islands, set like richest gems in the bosom of the 
sea, wdl yet glow with the effulgence of Christian truth. 

His early studies in this branch are attested by an ar- 
ticle in the North American Eeview for June, 1819, on 
Du Ponceau's Eeport on the Languages of the American 
Indians, and another article in the same Eeview, for July, 
1820, on Dr. Jarvis's Discourse on the Eeligion of the 
Indian Tribes of North America. The latter attracted 
the particular attention of William von Humboldt. 

The Collections of the Massachusetts Historical So- 
ciety contain several important communications from 
him on the Indian languages : in 1822 (Vol. IX. Second 
Series) an edition of the Indian Grammar of Eliot, the 
St. Augustin of New England, with Introductory Obser- 
vations on the Massachusetts Language by the editor, 
. and Notes by Mr. Du Ponceau, inscribed to his " learned 
friend, Mr. Pickering, as a just tribute of friendship and 
respect"; — in 1823 (Vol. X. Second Series) an edition 
of Jonathan Edwards's Observations on the Mohegan 
Language, with an Advertisement and Copious Notes 



228 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

on the Indian Languages by the editor, and a Compara- 
tive Vocabulary of Various Dialects of the Lenape or 
Delaware Stock of North American Languages, together 
with a Specimen of the Winnebago Language ; — in 1830 
(Vol. II. Third Series) an edition of Cotton's Vocabu- 
lary of the Massachusetts Language. He also prepared 
Eoger Williams's Vocabulary of the Narragansett In- 
dians for the Ehode Island Historical Society. These 
labors were calculated, in no ordinary degree, to pro- 
mote a knowledge of our aboriginal idioms, and to shed 
light on that important and newly attempted branch of 
knowledge, the science of Comparative Language. 

Among the Memoirs of the American Academy, pub- 
lished in 1833, (Vol. I. New Series) is the Dictionary of 
the Abnaki Language, in North America, by Father Se- 
bastian Easles, with an Introductory Memoir and Notes 
by Mr. Pickering. The original manuscript of this copi- 
ous Dictionary, commenced by the good and indefatiga- 
ble Jesuit in 1691, during his solitary residence with the 
Indians, was found among his papers after the massacre 
at Norridgewock, in which he was killed, and, passing 
through several hands, at last came into the possession 
of Harvard University. It is considered one of the 
most interesting and authentic documents in the histo- 
ry of the North American languages. In the Memoir 
accompanying the Dictionary, Mr. Pickering, with the 
modesty which marked aU his labors, says that he made 
inquiries for memorials of these languages, " hoping that 
he might render some small service by collecting and 
preserving these valuable materials for the use of those 
persons whose leisure and ability would enable them to 
employ them more advantageously than it was in his 
power to do, for the benefit of philological science." 



THE LATE JOHN PICKERING. 229 

The elaborate article on the Indian Languages of 
America in the Encyclopaedia Americana is from his 
pen. The subject was considered so interesting, in re- 
gard to general and comparative philology, while so 
little was known respecting it, that a space was allowed 
to tliis article beyond that of other philological articles 
in the Encyclopaedia. The forthcoming volume of Me- 
moirs of the American Academy contains an interest- 
ing paper of a kindred character, one of his latest pro- 
ductions, on the Language and Inhabitants of Lord 
North's Island, in the Indian Archipelago, with a Vo- 
cabulary. 

The Address before the American Oriental Society, 
delivered and published in 1843, as the first number of 
the Journal of that body, is an admirable contribution 
to the history of languages, presenting a survey of the 
peculiar field of labor to which the Society is devoted, 
in a style which attracts alike the scholar and the less 
critical reader. 

Among his other productions in philology may be 
mentioned an interesting article on the Cliinese Lan- 
guage, which first appeared in the North American Ee- 
view for January, 1839, and was afterwards dishonestly 
reprinted, as an original article, in the London Monthly 
Eeview for December, 1840 ; also an article on the Co- 
chin-Chinese Language, published in the North American 
Eeview for April, 1841 ; another on Adelung's " Survey 
of Languages," in the same journal, in 1822 ; a review 
of Johnson's Dictionary, in the American Quarterly Ee- 
view for September, 1828 ; and two articles in the New 
York Eeview for 1826, being a caustic examination of 
General Cass's article in the North American Eeview 
respecting the Indians of North America. These two pa- 



230 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

pers were not acknowledged by their author at the time 
they were written. They purport to be by KASS-i!*-^a- 
tor-skee, or The Feathered Arrow, a fictitious name from 
the Latin CAS-tigator and an Indian termination skee 
or ski. 

Even this enumeration does not close the catalogue 
of Mr. Pickering's productions. There are others — to 
which, however, we refer by their titles only — that 
may be classed with contributions to general literature. 
Among these is an Oration delivered at Salem on the 
Fourth of July, 1804; an article in the Encyclopaedia 
Americana, in 1829, on the Agrarian Laws of Kome ; an 
article in the North American Review for April, 1829, 
on Elementary Instruction; an Introductory Essay to 
Newhall's Letters on Junius, in 1831 ; a Lecture on 
Telegraphic Language, before the Boston Marine Soci- 
ety, in 1833 ; an article on Peirce's History of Harvard 
University, in the North American Eeview for April, 
1834; an article on the South Sea Islands, in the 
American Quarterly Eeview for September, 1836 ; an 
article on Prescott's History of the Eeign of Ferdinand 
and Isabella, in the New York Eeview for April, 1838 ; 
the noble Eulogy on Dr. Bowditch, delivered before the 
American Academy, May 29, 1838 ; and Obituary Notices 
of Mr. Peirce, the Librarian of Harvard College, of Dr. 
Spurzheim, of Dr. Bowditch, and of his valued friend 
and correspondent, the partner of his philological labors, 
Mr. Du Ponceau ; also an interesting Lecture, stiU un- 
published,* on the Origin of the Population of America, 
and two others on Languages. 

The reader will be astonished at these various contri- 
butions to learning and literature, thus hastily reviewed. 



THE LATE JOHN PICKERING. 231 

particularly when he regards them as the diversions of a 
life fiUed in amplest measure by other pursuits. Charles 
Lamb said that his real works were not his published 
writings, but the ponderous folios copied by his hand 
in the India House. In the same spirit, Mr. Pickering 
might point to the multitudinous transactions of his long 
professional life, cases argued in court, conferences with 
clients, and deeds, contracts, and other papers, in that 
clear, legible autograph which is a fit emblem of his 
transparent character. 

His professional life first invites attention. Here it 
should be observed that he was a thorough, hard-work- 
ing lawyer, for the greater part of his days in full prac- 
tice, constant at his office, attentive to all the concerns 
of business, and to what may be called the humilities 
of the profession. He was faithful, conscientious, and 
careful ; nor did his zeal for the interests committed to 
his care ever betray him beyond the golden mean of duty. 
The law, in his hands, was a shield for defence, and 
never a sword to thrust at his adversary. His prepara- 
tions for arguments in court were marked by peculiar 
care ; his brief was elaborate. On questions of law he 
was learned and profound ; but his manner in court was 
excelled by his matter. The experience of a long life 
never enabled him to overcome the native childlike dif- 
fidence which made him shrink from public display. 
He developed his views with clearness and an invari- 
able regard to their logical sequence, — but he did not 
press them home by energy of manner, or any of the 
arts of eloquence. 

His mind was rather judicial than forensic in cast. 
He was better able to discern the right than to make 
the wrong appear the better reason. He was not a legal 



232 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

athlete, snuffing new vigor in the atmosphere of the 
bar, and regarding success alone, — but a faithful coun- 
sellor, solicitous for his client, and for justice too. 

It was this character that led him to contemplate the 
law as a science, and to study its improvement and ele- 
vation. He could not look upon it merely as the means 
of earning money. He gave much of his time to its 
generous culture. From the walks of practice he as- 
cended to the heights of jurisprudence, embracing with- 
in his observation the systems of other countries. His 
contributions to this department illustrate the turn and 
extent of his inquiries. It was his hope to accomplish 
some careful work on the law, more elaborate than the 
memorials he has left. The subject of the Practice and 
Frocedure of Courts, or what is called by the civilians 
Stylus Curice, occupied his mind, and he intended to 
treat it in the light of foreign authorities, particularly 
German and French, with the view of determining the 
general principles, or natural law, common to all sys- 
tems, by which it is governed. Such a work, executed 
with the fine juridical spirit in which it was conceived, 
would have been welcomed wherever the law is studied 
as a science. 

It is, then, not only as lawyer, practising in courts, 
but as jurist, to whom the light of jurisprudence shone 
gladsome, that we are to esteem our departed friend. 
As such, his example will command attention and exert 
an influence long after the paper dockets in blue covers, 
chronicling the stages of litigation in his cases, are con- 
signed to the oblivion of dark closets and cobwebbed 
pigeon-holes. 

But he has left a place vacant, not only ia the halls 
of jurisprudence, but also in the circle of scholars 



THE LATE JOHN PICKERING. 233 

throughout the world, and, it may he said, in the Pan- 
theon of universal learning. Contemplating the variety, 
the universality of his attainments, the mind, borrowing 
an epithet once applied to another, involuntarily ex- 
claims, " The admirable Pickering ! " He seems, indeed, 
to have run the whole round of knowledge. His studies 
in ancient learning had been profound ; nor can we 
sufiiciently admire the facility with which, amidst other 
cares, he assumed the task of lexicographer. Unless 
some memorandum should be found among his papers, 
as was the case with Sir William Jones,^ specifying the 
languages to which he had been devoted, it might be 
difficult to frame a list with entire accuracy. It is cer- 
tain that he was familiar with at least nine, — English, 
Trench, Portuguese, Italian, Spanish, German, Romaic, 
Greek, and Latin, of which he spoke the first five. He 
was less familiar, though well acquainted, with Dutch, 
Swedish, Danish, and Hebrew, — and had explored, with 
various degrees of care, the Arabic, Turkish, Syriac, Per- 
sian, Coptic, Sanscrit, Chinese, Cochin-Chinese, Russian, 
Egyptian hieroglyphics, the Malay in several dialects, 
and particularly the Indian languages of America and 
the Polynesian Islands. 

The sarcasm of Hudibras on the " barren ground " 
supposed congenial to " Hebrew roots " is refuted by 
the richness of his accomplishments. His style is that 
of a scholar and man of taste. It is simple, unpretend- 

1 Sir William .Jones had studied eight languages critically, — English, 
Latin, French, Italian, Greek, Arabic, Persian, Sanscrit; eight less perfectly, 
but all intelligible with a dictionary, — Spanish, Portuguese, German, Ru- 
nic, Hebrew, Bengali, Hindi, Turkish; twelve least perfectly, but all attain- 
able, — Tibetian, Pali, Phalavi, Deri, Russian, Syriac, ^thiopic, Coptic, 
Welsh, Swedish, Dutch, Chinese : in all twenty-eight languages. — Teign- 
MOUTH, Life of Jones, p. 376, note. 



234 BIOGEAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

ing like its author, clear, accurate, and flows in an even 
tenor of elegance, which rises at times to a suavity al- 
most Xenophontian. Though little adorned by flowers 
of rhetoric, it shows the sensibility and refinement of an 
ear attuned to the harmonies of language. He had cul- 
tivated music as a science, and in his younger days per- 
formed on the flute with Grecian fondness. Some of the 
airs he had learned in Portugal were simg to him by his 
daughter shortly before his death, bringing with them, 
doubtless, the pleasant memories of early travel and the 
" incense-breathing morn " of life. A lover of music, he 
was naturally inclined to the other fine arts, but always 
had particular pleasure in works of sculpture. 

Nor were those other studies which are sometimes re- 
garded as of a more practical character foreign to his mind. 
In college days he was noticed for his attainments in 
mathematics ; and later in life he perused with intelligent 
care the great work of his friend. Dr. Bowditch, the trans- 
lation of the Mdcanique Celeste. He was chairman of 
the committee which recommended the purchase of a 
first-class telescope for the neighborhood of Boston, and 
was the author of their interesting report on the use 
and importance of such an instrument. He was partial 
to natural history, particularly botany, which he taught 
to some of his family. In addition to all this, he pos- 
sessed a natural aptitude for the mechanic arts, which 
was improved by observation and care. Early in life he 
learned to use the turning-lathe, and, as he declared in 
an unpublished lecture before the Mechanics' Institute 
of Boston, made toys which he bartered among his school- 
mates. 

This last circumstance gives singular point to the 
parallel, already striking in other respects, between him 



THE LATE JOHN PICKERING. 235 

and the Greek orator, the boast of whose various knowl- 
edge is preserved by Cicero : " Nihil esse uUa in arte 
rerum omnium, quod ipse nesciret : nee solum has artes, 
quibus liberales doctrinae atque ingenuae continerentur, 
geometriam, musicam,literarum cognitionem etpoetarum, 
atque ilia, quae de naturis rerum, quae de hominum mori- 
bus, quae de rebuspublicis dicerentur ; sed annulum, qucm 
hahcret, se sua manu co7ifecissey^ The Greek, besides 
knowing everything, made the ring which he wore, as 
our friend made toys. 

As the champion of classical studies, and a student of 
language, or philologist, he is entitled to be specially re- 
membered. It is impossible to measure the influence he 
has exerted upon the scholarship of the country. His 
writings and his example, from early youth, pleaded its 
cause, and will plead it ever, although his living voice is 
hushed in the grave. His genius for languages was pro- 
found. He saw, with intuitive perception, their structure 
and affinities, and delighted in the detection of their hid- 
den resemblances and relations. To their history and 
character he devoted his attention, more than to their 
literature. It is not possible for this humble pen to de- 
termine the place which will be allotted to him in the 
science of philology ; but the writer cannot forbear re- 
cording the authoritative testimony to the rare merits of 
Mr. Pickering in this department, which it was his for- 
tune to hear from the lips of Alexander von Humboldt. 
With the brother, WiUiam von Humboldt, that great 
light of modern philology, he maintained a long corre- 
spondence, particularly on the Indian languages ; and his 
letters will be found preserved in the Eoyal Library at 
Berlin. Without rashly undertaking to indicate any 

1 De Oratore, Lib. HI. cap. 32. 



236 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

scale of pre-eminence or precedence among the cultiva- 
tors of this department, at home or abroad, it may not 
be improper to refer to his labors in those words of Dr. 
Johnson with regard to his own, as evidence " that we 
may no longer yield the palm of philology, without a 
contest, to the nations of the Continent." ^ 

If it should be asked by what magic Mr. Pickering 
was able to accomplish these remarkable results, it must 
be answered. By the careful husbandry of time. His 
talisman was industry. He delighted in referriag to 
those rude inhabitants of Tartary who placed idleness 
among the torments of the world to come, and often re- 
membered the beautiful proverb in his Oriental studies, 
that by labor the leaf of the mulberry is turned into silk. 
His life is a perpetual commentary on those words of 
untranslatable beauty in the great Italian poet : — 

" Seggendo in piuma, 

In fama non si vien, ne sotto coltre : 
Sanza la qual, chi sua vita consuma, 

Cotal vestigio in terra di se lascia, 
Qual fumo in aere od in acqua la schiuma." 2 

With a mind thus deeply imbued with learning, it 
will be felt that he was formed less for the contentions 
of the forum than for the exercises of the academy. And 
yet it is understood that he declined several opportu- 
nities of entering its learned retreats. In 1806 he was 
elected Hancock Professor of Hebrew and other Oriental 
Languages in Harvard University ; and at a later day he 
was invited to the chair of Greek Literature in the same 
institution. On the death of Professor Ashmun, many 
eyes were turned towards him, as fitted to occupy the 
professorship of law in Cambridge, since so ably filled 

1 Preface to Dictionary. 

2 Divina Commedia, Inferno, Canto XXIV. w. 47-51. 



THE LATE JOHN PICKERING. 237 

by Mr. Greenleaf; and on two different occasions liis 
name was echoed by the public prints as about to re- 
ceive the dignity of President of the University. But 
he continued in the practice of the law to the last. 

He should be claimed by the bar with peculiar pride. 
If it be true, as has been said, that Serjeant Talfourd 
has reflected more honor upon his profession by the 
successful cultivation of letters than any of his contem- 
poraries by their forensic triumphs, then should the 
American bar acknowledge their obligations to the fame 
of Mr. Pickering. He was one of us. He was a regu- 
lar in our ranks ; in other service, only a volunteer. 

The mind is led instinctively to a parallel between 
him and that illustrious scholar and jurist, ornament of 
the English law, and pioneer of Oriental studies in 
England, Sir William Jones, to whom I have already 
referred. Both confessed, in early life, the attractions 
of classical studies ; both were trained in the discipline 
of the law ; both, though engaged in its practice, always 
delighted to contemplate it as a science ; both surren- 
dered themselves with irrepressible ardor to the study 
of languages, while the one broke into the unexplored 
fields of Eastern philology, and the other devoted him- 
self more especially to the native tongues of his ow^n 
Western continent. Their names are, perhaps, equally 
conspicuous for the number of languages which occu- 
pied their attention. As we approach them in private 
life, the parallel stiU continues. In both there were the 
same truth, generosity, and gentleness, a cluster of noble 
virtues, — while the intenser earnestness of the one is 
compensated by the greater modesty of the other. To 
our American jurist-scholar, also, may be applied those 
words of the Greek couplet, borrowed from Aris- 



238 BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

tophanes, and first appropriated to his English proto- 
type : " The Graces, seeking a shrine that would not 
decay, found the soul of Jones." . 

While dwelling with admiration upon his triumphs 
of intellect and the fame he has won, we must not for- 
get the virtues, higher than intellect or fame, by which 
his life was adorned. In the jurist and the scholar 
we must not lose sight of the man. So far as is allot- 
ted to a mortal, he was a spotless character. The murky 
tides of this world seemed to flow by without soiling 
his garments. He was pure in thought, word, and deed ; 
a lover of truth, goodness, and humanity ; the friend 
of the young, encouraging them in their studies, and 
aiding them by wise counsels ; ever kind, considerate, 
and gentle to all; towards children, and the unfortu- 
nate, full of tenderness. He was of charming modesty. 
With learning to which all bowed with reverence, he 
walked humbly before God and man. His pleasures 
were simple. In the retirement of his study, and the 
blandishments of his music-loving family, he found rest 
from the fatigues of the bar. He never spoke in anger, 
nor did any hate find a seat in his bosom. His placid 
life was, like law in the definition of Aristotle, " mind 
without passion." 

Through his long and industrious career he was bless- 
ed with unbroken health. He walked on earth with an 
unailing body and a serene mind ; and at last, in the 
fulness of time, when the garner was overflowing with 
the harvests of a well-spent life, in the bosom of his 
family, the silver cord was gently loosed. He died at 
Boston, May 5, 1846, in the seventieth year of his age, 
— only a few days after he had prepared for the press 
the last sheets of a new and enlarged edition of his 



THE LATE JOHN PICKEEING. 239 

Greek Lexicon. His wife, to whom he was married in 
1805, and three children, survive to mourn their irrepa- 
rable loss. 

The number of societies, both at home and abroad, 
of which he was an honored member, attests the wide- 
spread recognition of his merits. He was President of 
the American Academy of Arts and Sciences ; President 
of the American Oriental Society; Foreign Secretary 
of the American Antiquarian Society ; PeUow of the 
Massachusetts Historical Society, the American Eth- 
nological Society, the American Philosophical Society; 
Honorary Member of the Historical Societies of New 
Hampshire, Ehode Island, New York, Pennsylvania, 
Michigan, Maryland, and Georgia; Honorary Member 
of the National Institution for the Promotion of Sci- 
ence, the American Statistical Association, the Northern 
Academy of Arts and Sciences, Hanover, N. H., and the 
Society for the Promotion of Legal Knowledge, Phila- 
delphia ; Corresponding Member of the Academy of 
Sciences at Berlin, the Oriental Society of Paris, the 
Academy of Sciences and Letters at Palermo, the An- 
tiquarian Society at Athens, and the Eoyal Northern 
Antiquarian Society at Copenhagen ; and Titular Mem- 
ber of the French Society of Universal Statistics. 

For many years he maintained a copious correspond- 
ence, on matters of jurisprudence, science, and learning, 
with distiaguished names at home and abroad : espe- 
cially with Mr. Du Ponceau, at Philadelphia, — with 
"William von Humboldt, at Berlin, — with Mittermaier, 
the jurist, at Heidelberg, — with Dr. Prichard, author of 
the Physical History of Mankind, at Bristol, — and with 
Lepsius, the hierologist, who wrote to him from the foot 
of the Pyramids, in Egypt. 



240 THE LATE JOHN PICKEKING, 

The death of one thus variously connected is no com- 
mon sorrow. Beyond the immediate cii'cle of family 
and friends, he will be mom^ned by the bar, among 
whom his daUy life was passed, — by the municipality 
of Boston, whose legal adviser he was, — by clients, 
who depended upon his counsels, — by good citizens, 
who were charmed by the abounding virtues of his 
private life, — by his country, who will cherish his name 
more than gold or silver, — by the distant islands of the 
Paciiic, who will bless his labors in the words they read, 
— finally, by the company of jurists and scholars 
throughout the world. His fame and his works will 
be fitly commemorated, on formal occasions, hereafter. 
Meanwhile, one who knew him at the bar and in pri- 
vate life, and who loves his memory, lays this early 
tribute upon his grave. 



THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, THE ARTIST, 
THE PHmANTHROPIST. 



An Oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of 

Harvard University, at their Anniversary, 

August 27, 1846. 



Then I would say to the young disciple of Truth and Beauty, who 
would know how to satisfy the noble impulse of his heart, througli every 
opposition of the century, — I would say. Give the world beneath your 
influence a direction towards the good, and the tranquil rhythm of time 
will bring its development. — Schiller. 



VOL. I. — 16 



In this Oration, as in that of the 4th of July, Mr. Snmner took advan- 
tage of the occasion to express himself freely, especially on the two great 
questions of Slavery and War. In the sensitive condition of public senti- 
ment at that time, such an eifort would have found small indulgence, if he 
had not placed himself behind four such names. While commemorating 
the dead, he was able to uphold living truth. 

The acceptance of this Oration at the time is attested by the toast of 
John Quincy Adams at the dinner of the Society : — 

" The memory of the Scholar, the Jurist, the Artist, the Philanthropist ; 
and not the memory, but the long life of the kindred spirit who has this 
day embalmed them all." 

This was followed by a letter irom Mr. Adams to Mr. Sumner, dated at 
Quincy, August 29, 1846, containing the following passage : — 

" It is a gratification to me to have the opportimity to repeat the thanks 
■which I so cordially gave you at the close of your oration of last Thursday, 
and of which the sentiment offered by me at the diimer-table was but an 
additional pulsation from the same heart. I trust I may now congratulate 
you on the felicity, first of your selection of your subject, and secondly of 

its consummation in the delivery The pleasure with which I listened 

to your discourse was inspired far less by the success and all but universal 
acceptance and applause of the present moment than by the vista of the 
future which is opened to my view. Casting my eyes backward no farther 
than the 4th of July of last year, when you set all the vipers of Alecto 
a-hissing by proclaiming the Christian law of universal peace and love, 
and then casting them forward, perhaps not much farther, but beyond my 
own allotted time, I see you have a mission to perform. I look from Pisgah 

to the Promised Land ; you must enter upon it To the motto on my seal 

[Alteri saculo] add Delenda est servitus." 

Similar testimony was offered by Edward Everett in a letter dated at 
Cambridge, September 5, 1846, where he thanks Mr. Sumner for his " most 
magnificent address, — an effort certainly of unsurpassed felicity and 
power," — then in another letter dated at Cambridge, September 25th, where 
he writes: "I read it last evening with a renewal of the delight with 
which I heard it. Should you never do anything else, you have done 
enough for fame ; but you are, as far as these public efforts are concerned, 
at the commencement of a career, destined, I trust, to last for long years, 
of ever-increasing usefulness and honor." 

Mr. Prescott, under date of October 2d, writes : — 

"The most happy conception has been carried out admirably, as if it 



244 

■were the most natural order of things, without the least constraint or vio- 
lence. I dou't know which of your sketches I like the best. I am inclined 
to think the Judge; for there you are on your own heather, and it is the 
tribute of a favorite pupil to his well-loved master, gushing warm from the 
heart. Yet they are all managed well ; and the vivid touches of character 
and the richness of the illustration will repay the study, I should imagine, 
of any one familiar with the particular science you discuss." 

Chancellor Kent, of New York, under date of October 6th, expresses him- 
self as follows : — 

" I had the pleasure to receive your Phi Beta Kappa Address, and I think 
it to be one of the most splendid productions m point of diction and elo- 
quence that I have ever read. You brought a most fervent mind to the 
task, glowmg with images of transcendent worth, and embellished with 
classical and literary allusions drawn from your memory and guided by 
your taste, with extraordinary force You have raised a noble monu- 
ment to the four great men who have adorned your State, and I feel deeply 
humbled with a sense of my own miserable inferiority when I contemplate 
such exalted models." 

These contemporary tokens of friendship and sympathy seem a proper 
part of this record. 



ORATION. 



TO-DAY is the festival of our fraternity, sacred to 
learning, to friendship, and to truth. From many- 
places, remote and near, we have come together be- 
neath the benediction of Alma Mater. We have walked 
in the grateful shelter of her rich embowering trees. 
Friend has met friend, classmate has pressed the hand 
of classmate, while the ruddy memories of youth and 
early study have risen upon the soul. And now we 
have come up to this church, a company of broth- 
ers, in long, weU-ordered procession, commencing with 
the silver locks of reverend age, and closing with 
the fresh faces that glow with the golden blood of 
youth. 

With hearts of gratitude, we greet among our number 
those whose lives are crowned by desert, — especially him 
who, returning from conspicuous cares in a foreign land, 
now graces our chief seat of learning,^ — and not less 
him who, closing, in the high service of the University, 
a life-long career of probity and honor, now voluntarily 
withdraws to a scholar's repose.^ We salute at once the 
successor and the predecessor, the rising and the set- 

1 Hon. Edward Everett. President of Harvard University. 

2 Hon. Josiah Quincy, late President of Harvard University. 



246 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

ting sun. And ingenuous youth, in whose bosom are 
infolded the germs of untold excellence, whose ardent 
soul sees visions closed to others by the hand of Time, 
commands our reverence not less than age rich in ex- 
perience and honor. The Present and the Past, with all 
their works, we know and measure ; but the triumphs 
of the Future are unknown and immeasurable ; — there- 
fore is there in the yet untried powers of youth a vast- 
ness of promise to quicken the regard. "Welcome, then, 
not less the young than the old ! and may this our holi- 
day brighten with harmony and joy ! 

As the eye wanders around our circle, Mr. President, 
in vain it seeks a beloved form, for many years so wel- 
come in the seat you now fill. I might have looked 
to behold him on this occasion. But death, since we 
last met together, has borne him away. The love of 
friends, the devotion of pupils, the prayers of the nation, 
the concern of the world, could not shield him from the 
inexorable shaft. Borrowing for him those words of 
genius and friendship which gushed from Clarendon at 
the name of Falkland, that he was * a person of pro- 
digious parts of learning and knowledge, of inimitable 
sweetness and delight in conversation, of flowing and 
obliging humanity and goodness to mankind, and of 
primitive simplicity and integrity of life," ^ I need not 
add the name of Story. To dwell on his character, and 
all that he has done, were a worthy theme. But his is 
not the only well-loved countenance which returns no 
answering smile. 

This year our Society, according to custom, publishes 
the catalogue of its members, marking by a star the in- 
satiate archery of Death during the brief space of four 

1 History of the Rebellion, Book VH. 



THE AKTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 247 

years. In no period of its history, equally short, have 
such shining marks been found. 

" Now kindred Merit fills the sable bier, 
Now lacerated Friendship claims a tear; 
Year chases year, decay pursues decay, 
StiU drops some joy from withering life away." l 

Scholarship, Jurisprudence, Ai-t, Humanity, each is 
called to mourn a chosen champion. Pickering the 
Scholar, Story the Jurist, Allston the Artist, Channing 
the Philanthropist, are gone. Wlien our last catalogue 
was published they were all living, each in his field of 
fame. Our catalogue of this year gathers them with 
the peaceful dead. Sweet and exalted companionship ! 
They were joined in life, in renown, and in death. They 
were brethren of our fraternity, sons of Alma Mater. 
Story and Channing were classmates ; Pickering pre- 
ceded them by two years only, Allston followed them 
by two years. Casting our eyes upon the closing lus- 
tre of the last century, we discern this brilliant group 
whose mortal light is now obscured. After the toils of 
his long life, Pickering sleeps serenely in the place of 
his birth, near the honored dust of his father. Chan- 
ning, Story, and Allston have been laid to rest in Cam- 
bridge, where they first tasted together the tree of life : 
Allston in the adjoining church-yard, within sound of 
the voice that now addresses you ; Channing and Story 
in the pleasant, grassy bed of Mount Auburn, under the 
shadow of beautiful trees, whose falling autumnal leaves 
are fit emblem of the generations of men. 

It was the custom in ancient Eome, on solemn occa- 
sions, to bring forward the images of departed friends, 
arrayed in robes of ofiice, and carefidly adorned, while 

1 Johnson, Vanity of Human Wishes, w. 303 - 306. 



248 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

some one recounted what they had done, in the hope 
of refreshing the memory of their deeds, and of in- 
spiring the living with new impulse to virtue. " For 
who," says the ancient historian, " can behold without 
emotion the forms of so many illustrious men, thus liv- 
ing, as it were, and breathing together in his presence ? 
or what spectacle can be conceived more great and strik- 
ing ? " ^ The images of our departed brothers are present 
here to-day, not in sculptured marble, but graven on our 
hearts. We behold them again, as in Kfe. They mingle 
in our festival, and cheer us by their presence. It were 
well to catch the opportunity of observing together their 
well-known lineaments, and of dwelling anew, with 
warmth of living affection, upon the virtues by which 
they are commended. Devoting the hour to their mem- 
ory, we may seek also to comprehend and reverence the 
great interests which they lived to promote. Pickering, 
Story, Allston, Channing ! Their names alone, without 
addition, awaken a response, which, like the far-famed 
echo of Dodona, will prolong itself through the live- 
long day. But, great as they are, we feel their insignifi- 
cance by the side of those great causes to which their 
days were consecrated, — Knowledge, Justice, Beauty, 
Love, the comprehensive attributes of God. Illustri- 
ous on earth, they were but lowly and mortal ministers 
of lofty and immortal truth. It is, then, the Scholar, 
THE Jurist, the Artist, the Philanthropist, whom we 
celebrate to-day, and whose pursuits will be the theme 
of my discourse. 

Here, on this threshold, let me say, what is implied 
in the very statement of my subject, that, in offering 
these tributes, I seek no occasion for personal eulogy or 

1 Hampton's Polybins, Book VI. Ext. II. ch. 2. 



THE AKTIST, THE PHILANTHEOPIST. 249 

biographical detail. My aim is to commemorate the 
men, but more to advance the objects which they so 
successfully served. Eeversing the order in which they 
left us, I shall take the last first. 

John Pickeking, the Scholak, died in the month of 
May, 1846, aged sixty-nine, within a short distance of 
that extreme goal which is the allotted limit of human 
life. By Scholar I mean a cultivator of liberal studies, a 
student of knowledge in its largest sense, — not merely 
classical, not excluding what in our day is exclusively 
called science, but which was unknown when the title 
of scholar first prevailed ; for though Cicero dealt a sar- 
casm at Archimedes, he spoke with higher truth when 
he beautifully recognized the common bond between aU 
departments of knowledge. The brother whom we 
mourn was a scholar, a student, as long as he lived. His 
place was not merely among those called by courtesy 
Educated Men, with most of whom education is past 
and gone, — men who have studied ; he studied always. 
Life to him was an unbroken lesson, pleasant with the 
charm of knowledge and the consciousness of improve- 
ment. 

The world knows and reveres his learning ; they only 
who partook somewhat of his daily life fully know the 
modesty of liis cha'^acter. His knowledge was such 
that he seemed to be ignorant of nothing, while, in the 
perfection of his humility, he might seem to know 
nothing. By learning conspicuous before the world, his 
native diffidence \vithdrew him from its personal obser- 
vation. Surely, learning so great, which claimed so little, 
will not be forgotten. The modesty which detained him 
in retirement during life introduces him now that he is 



250 THE SCHOLAR, THE JUEIST, 

dead. Strange reward ! Merit which shrank from the 
living gaze is now observed of all men. The voice once 
so soft is returned in echoes from the tomb. 

I place in the front his modesty and his learning, two 
attributes by which he will be always remembered. I 
might enlarge on his sweetness of temper, his simplici- 
ty of life, his kindness to the young, his sympathy with 
studies of all kinds, his sensibility to beauty, his con- 
scientious character, his passionless mind. Could he 
speak to us of himself, he might adopt words of self- 
painting from the candid pen of his eminent predecessor 
in the cultivation of Grecian literature, leader of its re- 
vival in Europe, as Pickering was leader in America, — 
the urbane and learned Erasmus. " For my own part," 
says the early scholar to his English friend, John Colet, 
" I best know my own failings, and therefore shall pre- 
sume to give a character of myself. You have in me a 
man of little or no fortune, — a stranger to ambition, — of 
a strong propensity to loving-kindness and friendship, — 
without any boast of learning, but a great admirer of it, — 
one who has a profound veneration for any excellence in 
others, however he may feel the want of it in himself, — 
who can readily yield to others in learning, but to none 
in integrity, — a man sincere, open, and free, — a hater 
of falsehood and dissimulation, — of a mind lowly and 
upright, — of few words, and who boasts of nothing but 
an honest heart." ^ 

I have called him Scholar ; for it is in this character 
that he leaves so excellent an example. But the tri- 
umphs of his life are enhanced by the variety of his 
labors, and especially by his long career at the bar. He 
was a lawyer, whose days were spent in the faithful 

1 Erasmi Epist., Lib. V. Ep. 4. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 251 

practice of his profession, busy with clients, careful of 
their concerns in court and out of court. Each day 
witnessed Ms untiring exertion in scenes little attrac- 
tive to his gentle and studious nature. He was formed 
to be a seeker of truth rather than a defender of wrong ; 
and he found less satisfaction in the strifes of the bar 
than in the conversation of books. To him litigation 
was a sorry feast, and a well-fiUed docket of cases not 
unlike the curious and now untasted dish of " nettles," 
in the first course of a Eoman banquet. He knew that 
the duties of the profession were important, but felt that 
even their successful performance, when unattended by ju- 
ridical culture, gave small title to regard, while they were 
less pleasant and ennobling than the disinterested pur- 
suit of learning. He would have said, at least as regards 
his own profession, with the Lord Archon of the Oceana, 
" I will stand no more to the judgment of lawyers and 
divines than to that of so many other tradesTncny ^ 

It was the law as a trade that he pursued reluctantly, 
while he had true happiness in the science of jurispru- 
dence, to which he devoted many hours rescued from 
other cares. By example, and contributions of the pen, 
he elevated the study, and invested it with the charm of 
liberal pursuits. By marvellous assiduity he was able 
to lead two lives, — one producing the fruits of earth, 
the other of immortality. In him was the union, rare 
as it is grateful, of lawyer and scholar. He has taught 
how much may be done for jurisprudence and learning 
even amidst the toils of professional life ; while the 
enduring lustre of his name contrasts with the fugitive 
reputation which is the lot of the mere lawyer, although 
clients beat at his gates from cock-crow at the dawn. 

1 Harriiitjton's Ocennn, p. 134. 



252 THE SCHOLAE, THE JUEIST, 

To describe his labors of scliolarship would be im- 
possible on this occasion. Although important contri- 
butions to the sum of knowledge, they were of a char- 
acter only slightly appreciated by the world at large. I 
They were chiefly directed to two subjects, — classical 
studies and general philology, if these two may be re- 
garded separately. 

His early life was marked by a particular interest in 
classical studies. At a time when, in our country, accu- 
rate and extensive scholarship was rare, he aspired to 
possess it. By daily and nightly toil he mastered the 
great exemplars of antiquity, and found delight in their 
beauties. His example was persuasive. And he added 
earnest effort to promote their study in the learned 
seminaries of our country. With unanswerable force 
he urged among us a standard of education commen- 
surate, in every substantial respect, with that of Eu- 
rope. He desired for the American youth on his native 
soil, under the influence of free institutions, a course of 
instruction rendering foreign aid superfluous. He had 
a just pride of country, and longed for its good name 
through accomplished representatives, well knowing that 
the American scholar, wherever he wanders in foreign 
lands, is a living recommendation of the institutions 
under which he was reared. 

He knew that scholarship of all kinds would gild the 
life of its possessor, enlarge the resources of the bar, 
enrich the voice of the pulpit, and strengthen the learn- 
ing of medicine. He knew that it would afford a sooth- 
ing companionship in hours of relaxation from labor, in 
periods of sadness, and in the evening of life; that, 
when once embraced, it was more constant than friend- 
ship, — attending its votary, as an invisible spirit, in the 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHEOPIST. 253 

toils of the day, the watches of the night, the changes 
of travel, and the alternations of fortune or health. 

In commending classical studies it would he difficult 
to say that he attached to them undue importance. By 
his own example he showed that he bore them no ex- 
clusive love. He regarded them as an essential part of 
liberal education, opening the way to other realms of 
knowledge, while they mature the taste and invigorate 
the understanding. Here probably all will concur. It 
may be questioned, whether, in our hurried American 
life, it is possible, with proper regard for other studies, 
to introduce into ordinary classical education the ex- 
quisite skill which is the pride of English scholarship, 
reminding us of the minvite finish in Chinese art, — or 
the ponderous and elaborate learning which is the won- 
der of Germany, reminding us of the imnatural perspec- 
tive in a Chinese picture. But much will be done, if we 
establish those habits of accm-acy, acquired only through 
early and careful training, which enable us at least to 
appreciate the severe beauty of antiquity, while they 
become an invaluable standard and measure of attain- 
ment in other things. 

The classics possess a peculiar charm, as models, I 
might say masters, of composition and form. In the 
contemplation of these august teachers we are fiUed 
with conflicting emotions. They are the early voice of 
the world, better remembered and more cherished than 
any intermediate voice, — as the language of childhood 
still haunts us, when the utterances of later years are 
effaced from the mind. But they show the rudeness 
of the world's childhood, before passion yielded to 
the sway of reason and the affections. Tliey want 
purity, righteousness, and that highest charm which is 



254 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

found in love to God and man. Not in the frigid phi- 
losophy of the Porch and the Academy are we to seek 
these ; not in the marvellous teachings of Socrates, as 
they come mended by the mellifluous words of Plato ; 
not in the resounding line of Homer, on whose inspiring 
tale of blood Alexander pillowed his head ; not in the 
animated strain of Pindar, where virtue is pictured in 
the successful strife of an athlete at the Olympian games ; 
not in the torrent of Demosthenes, dark with self-love 
and the spirit of vengeance ; not in the fitful philosophy 
and boastful eloquence of TuUy ; not in the genial lib- 
ertinism of Horace, or the stately atheism of Lucretius. 
To these we give admiration ; but they cannot be our 
highest teachers. In none of these is the way of life. 
For eighteen hundred years the spirit of these classics 
has been in constant contention with the Sermon on the 
Moiint, and with those two sublime commandments on 
which " hang aU the law and the prophets." ^ The strife 
is still pending, and who shall say when it wiU end ? 
Heathenism, which possessed itself of such Siren forms, 
is not yet exorcised. Even now it exerts a powerful 
sway, imbuing youth, coloring the thought of man- 
hood, and haunting the meditation of age. Widening 
still in sphere, it embraces nations as weU. as individu- 
als, until it seems to sit ^upreme. 

1 Terence, taiight, perhaps, by his own bitter experience as slave, has 
given expression to truth almost Christian, when he says, — 

" Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto." 

Eeauion., Act I. Sc. 1. 
And in the Andria, — 

" Facile omnes perferre ac pati. 
Cum quibus erat cunque una : iis sese dedere : 
Eorum obsequi studiis: advorsus nemini: 
Nunquam prseponens se illis." 

Act I. Sc. 1. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 255 

Our own productions, though yielding to the ancient 
in arrangement, method, beauty of form, and freshness 
of illustration, are superior in truth, delicacy, and eleva- 
tion of sentiment, — above all, in the recognition of that 
peculiar revelation, the Brotherhood of Man. Vain are 
eloquence and poetry, compared with this heaven- 
descended truth. Put in one scale that simple ut- 
terance, and in the other all the lore of antiquity, with 
its accumulating glosses and commentaries, and the 
latter will be light in the balance. Greek poetry has 
been likened to the song of the nightingale, as she sits 
in the rich, symmetrical crown of the palm-tree, trilling 
her thick- warbled notes ; but these notes will not com- 
pare in sweetness with those teachings of charity which 
belong to our Christian inheritance. 

These things cannot be forgotten by the scholar. 
From the Past he may draw all it can contribute to the 
great end of life, human progress and happiness, — pro- 
gress, without which happiness is vain. But he must 
close his soul to the hardening influence of that spirit, 
which is more to be dreaded, as it is enshrined in com- 
positions of such commanding authority, 

" Sunk in Homer's mine, 
I lose my precious years, now soon to fail, 
Handling his gold; which, howsoe'er it shine. 

Proves dross, when balanced in the Christian scale." l 

In the department of philology, kindred to that of 
the classics, our Scholar labored with similar success. 
Unlike Sir William Jones in genius, he was like this 
English scholar in the multitude of languages he em- 
braced. Distance of time and space was forgotten, as 
he explored the far-off primeval Sanscrit, — the hiero- 

1 Cowper, Sonnet to John Johnson : Minor Poems, 



256 THE SCHOLAE, THE JUKIST, 

glyphics of Egypt, now awakening from the mute 
repose of centuries, — the polite and learned tongues 
of ancient and modern Europe, — the languages of 
Mohammedanism, — the various dialects in the forests 
of North America, and in the sandal-groves of the 
Pacific, — only closing with a lingua franca from an 
unlettered tribe on the coast of Africa, to which his 
attention was called during the illness which ended in 
death. 

This recital exhibits the variety and extent of his 
studies in a department which is supposed inaccessible, 
except to peculiar and Herculean labors. He had a nat- 
ural and intuitive perception of affinities in language, 
and of its hidden relations. His researches have thrown 
important light on the general principles of this science, 
as also on the history and character of individual lan- 
guages. In devising an alphabet of the Indian tongues 
in North America, since adopted in the Polynesian 
Islands, he rendered a brilliant service to civilization. 
It is pleasant to contemplate the Scholar sending forth 
from his seclusion tliis priceless instrument of improve- 
ment. On the distant islands once moistened by the 
blood of Cook newspapers and books are printed in a 
native language, which was reduced to a written char- 
acter by the care and genius of Pickering. The Vocab- 
ulary of Americanisms and the Greek and English 
Lexicon attest still further the variety and value of his 
philological labors ; nor can we sufficiently admire the 
faciUty with which, amidst the duties of an arduous 
profession and the temptations of scholarship, he as- 
sumed the appalling task of the lexicographer, which 
Scaliger compares to the labors of the anvil and the 
mine. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 257 

There are critics, ignorant, hasty, or supercilious, who 
are too apt to disparage the toils of the jiliilologist, treat- 
ing them sometimes as curious only, sometimes as triv- 
ial, or, when they enter into lexicograpliy, as those of a 
harmless drudge. It might be sufficient to reply, that 
all exercise of the intellect promoting forgetfulness of 
seK and the love of science ministers essentially to 
human improvement. But philology may claim other 
suffrages. It is its province to aid in determining 
the character of words, their extraction and signifi- 
cation, and in other ways to guide and explain the use 
of language ; nor is it generous, wliile enjoying elo- 
quence, poetry, science, and the many charms of litera- 
ture, to withhold our gratitude from silent and sometimes 
obscure labors in illustration of that great instrument 
without which all the rest is nothing. 

The science of Comparative Philology, which our 
Scholar has illustrated, may rank with shining pursuits. 
It challenges a place by the side of that science which 
received such development from the genius of Cuvier. 
The study of Comparative Anatomy has thrown imex- 
pected light on the physical history of the animate 
creation ; but it cannot be less interesting or important 
to explore the unwritten history of the human race in 
languages that have been spoken, to trace their pedi- 
gree, to detect their affinities, — seeking the prevailing 
law by which they are governed. As we comprehend 
these things, confusion and discord retreat, the Frater- 
nity of Man stands confessed, and the philologist be- 
comes a minister at the altar of imiversal philanthropy. 
In the study of the Past, he learns to anticipate the 
Future ; and in sublime vision he sees, with Leibnitz, 
that Unity of the Human Eace which, in t.te succes- 

VOL. I. — 17 * 



258 THE SCHOLAR, THE JUEIST, 

sion of ages, will find its expression in an instrument 
more marvellous than the infinite Calculus, — a uni- 
versal language, with an alphabet of human thoughts.^ 

As the sun draws moisture from rill, stream, lake, and 
ocean, to be returned in fertilizing shower upon the 
earth, so did our Scholar derive knowledge from all 
sources, to be diffused in beneficent influence upon the 
world. He sought it not in study only, but in con- 
verse with men, and in experience of life. His curious 
essay on the Pronunciation of the Ancient Greek Lan- 
guage was suggested by listening to Greek sailors, whom 
the temptations of commerce had conducted to our 
shores from their historic sea. 

Such a character — devoted to works of wide and 
enduring interest, not restricted to international lines 
— awakened respect and honor wherever learning was 
cultivated. His name was associated with illustrious 
fraternities of science in foreign nations, while scholars 
who could not know him face to face, by an ami- 
able commerce of letters sought the aid and sympa- 
thy of his learning. His death has broken these living 
links of fellowship ; but his name, that cannot die, will 
continue to bind all who love knowledge and virtue to 
the land which was blessed by his presence. 



From the Scholar I pass to the Jurist. Joseph 
Story died in the month of September, 1845, aged sixty- 
six. His countenance, familiar in this presence, was 
always so beaming with goodness and kindness that its 
withdrawal seems to lessen sensibly the brightness of 

1 Fontenelle, Jlloge de Leibnitz: (Euvres, Tom. V. p. 493. Leibnitz, Opera, 
ed. Dutens, Vol. V. p. 7. 



THE AETIST, THE PHILANTHKOPIST. 259 

the scene. We are assembled near tlie seat of liis fa- 
vorite pursuits, among the neighbors intimate with his 
private virtues, close by the home hallowed by his do- 
mestic altar. These paths he often trod ; and all that 
our eyes here look upon seems to reflect his genial 
smile. His twofold official relations with the Univer- 
sity, his high judicial station, his higher character as 
Jurist, invest his name with a peculiar interest, while 
the unconscious kindness which he showed to all, es- 
pecially the young, touches the heart, making us rise 
up and call him blessed. How fondly would the youth 
nurtm-ed in jurisprudence at his feet — were such an 
offering, Alcestis-like, within the allotments of Prov- 
idence — have prolonged their beloved master's days at 
the expense of their own ! 

The University, by the voice of his learned associate, 
has already rendered tribute to his name. The tri- 
bunals of justice throughout the country have given 
utterance to their solemn grief, and the fimeral torch 
has passed across the sea into foreign lands. 

He has been heard to confess that literature was his 
earliest passion, which yielded only to a sterner sum- 
mons beckoning to professional life ; and they who 
knew him best cannot forget that he continued to the 
last fond of poetry and polite letters, and would often 
turn from Themis to the Muses. Nor can it be doubted 
that this feature, which marks the resemblance to Sel- 
den, Somers, Mansfield, and Blackstone, in England, and 
to L'Hopital and D'Aguesseau, in France, has added to 
the brilliancy and perfection of his character as a jurist. 
In the history of jurisprudence it would not be easy to 
mention a single person winning its highest palm who 
was not a scholar also. 



260 THE SCHOLAR, THE JUEIST, 

The first hardships incident to study of the law, which 
perplexed the youthful spirit of the learned Spelman, be- 
set our Jurist with disheartening force. Let the young 
remember his trial and his triumph, and be of good 
cheer. According to the custom of his day, while yet 
a student in the town of Marblehead, he undertook 
to read Coke on Littleton, in the large folio edition, 
thatched over with those manifold annotations which 
cause the best-trained lawyer to "gasp and stare." 
Striving to force his way through the black-letter page, 
he was filled with despair. It was but a moment. 
The tears poured from his eyes upon the open book. 
Those tears were his precious baptism into the learning 
of the law. From that time forth he persevered, with 
ardor and confidence, from triumph to triumph. 

He was elevated to the bench of the Supreme Court 
of the United States, by the side of Marshall, at the 
early age of thirty-two. At the same early age Buller 
— reputed the ablest judge of Westminster Hall, in the 
list of those who never arrived at the honors of Chief 
Justice — was induced to renounce an income larger 
than the salary of a judge, to take a seat by the side 
of Mansfield. The parallel continues. During the re- 
mainder of Mansfield's career on the bench, Buller was 
the friend and associate upon whom he chiefly leaned ; 
and history records the darling desire of the venerable 
Chief Justice that his faithful assistant should succeed 
to his seat and chain of office ; but these wishes, the 
hopes of the profession, and liis o\at;i continued labors 
were disregarded by a minister who seldom rewarded 
any but political services, — I mean Mr. Pitt. Our 
brother, like Buller, was the friend and associate of a 
venerable chief justice, by whose side he sat for many 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 261 

years ; nor do I state any fact whicli I should not for 
the sake of history, when I add, that it was the long- 
cherished desire of Marshall that Story should be his 
successor. It was ordered otherwise ; and he continued 
a judge of the Supreme Court for the space of thirty- 
four years, — a judicial life of almost unexampled length 
in the history of the Common Law, and of precisely 
the same duration with the illustrious magistracy of 
D'Aguesseau in France. 

As judge, he was called to administer a most ex- 
tensive jurisdiction, embracing matters which in Eng- 
land are so variously distributed that they never come 
before any one court ; and in each department he has 
shown himself second to none other, unless we unite 
with him in deferring to Marshall as tlie greatest ex- 
pounder of a branch peculiar to ourselves. Constitutional 
Law. Nor will it be easy to mention any other judge 
who has left behind so large a number of judgments 
which belong to the first class in the literature of the law. 
Some excel in a special branch, to which their learning 
and labor are directed. He excelled in all. At home 
in the feudal niceties of Eeal Law, with its depen- 
dencies of descents, remainders, and executory devises, 
— also in the ancient hair-splitting technicaUties of 
Special Pleading, — both creatures of an illiterate age, 
gloomy with black-letter and verbal subtilties, — he was 
most skilful in using and expounding the rules of Evi- 
dence, the product of a more refined period of juridical 
history, — was master of the common law of Contracts, 
and of Commercial Law in its wide expanse, embracing 
so large a part of those topics which concern the busi- 
ness of our age, — was familiar with Criminal Law, 
which he administered with the learning of a judge and 



262 THE SCHOLAE, THE JTJEIST, 

the tenderness of a parent, — had compassed the whole 
circle of Chancery in its jurisdiction and its pleadings, 
touching all the interests of life, and subtilely adapting 
the Common Law to our own age ; and he ascended with 
ease to those less trodden heights where are extended 
the rich demesnes of Admiralty, the Law of Prize, and 
that comprehensive theme, embracing all that history, 
philosophy, learning, literature, human experience, and 
Christianity have testified, — the Law of Nations. 

It was not as judge only that he served. He sought 
other means of illustrating the science of the law which 
he loved so well, and to the cares of judicial life super- 
added the labors of author and teacher. To this he was 
moved by passion for the law, by desire to aid its elu- 
cidation, and by the irrepressible instinct of his nature, 
which found in incessant activity the truest repose. His 
was that constitution of mind where occupation is the 
normal state. He was possessed by a genius for labor. 
Others may moil in law as constantly, but without his 
loving, successful study. "What he undertook he always 
did with heart, soul, and mind, — not with reluctant, 
vain compliance, but with his entire nature bent to the 
task. As in social life, so was he in study : his heart 
embraced labor, as his hand grasped the hand of friend. 

As teacher, he should be gratefully remembered 
here. He was Dane Professor of Law in the Univer- 
sity. By the attraction of his name students were 
drawn from remote parts of the Union, and the Law 
School, wliich had been a sickly branch, became the 
golden mistletoe of our ancient oak.^ Besides learning 
unsurpassed in his profession, he brought other qualities 

1 " Talis erat species auri frondentis opaca 
Dice." 

JEneis, VI. 208. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHIIJLNTHROPIST. 263 

not less important in a teacher, — goodness, benevolence, 
and a willingness to teach. Only a good man can be a 
teacher, only a benevolent man, only a man willing 
to teach. He was filled with a desii-e to teach. He 
sought to mingle his mind with that of his pupil. To 
pour into the souls of the young, as into celestial urns, 
the fruitful waters of knowledge, was to him a blessed 
office. The kindly enthusiasm of his nature found 
a response. Law, sometimes supposed to be harsh 
and crabbed, became inviting under his instructions. 
Its great principles, drawn from experience and re- 
flection, from the rules of right and wrong, from the 
unsounded depths of Christian truth, illustrated by the 
learning of sages and the judgments of courts, he un- 
folded so as to inspire a love for their study, — well 
knowing that the knowledge we imj)art is trivial, 
compared with that awakening of the soul under the 
influence of wliich the pupil himself becomes teacher. 
All of knowledge we can communicate is finite ; a few 
pages, a few chapters, a few volumes, will embrace it ; 
but such an influence is of incalculable power. It is 
the breath of a new life ; it is another soul. Story 
taught as priest of the law seeking to consecrate 
other priests. In him the spirit spake, not with the 
voice of earthly calling, but with the gentleness and 
self-forgetful earnestness of one pleading in behalf of 
justice, knowledge, happiness. His well-loved pupils 
hung upon his lips, and, as they left his presence, con- 
fessed new reverence for virtue, and warmer love of 
knowledge for its own sake. 

The spirit which glowed in his teachings fiUed his 
life. He was, in the truest sense. Jurist, — student 
and expounder of jurisprudence as a science, — not 



264 THE SCHOLAE, THE JUEIST, 

merely lawyer or judge, pursuing it as an art. This 
distinction, though readily perceived, is not always re- 
garded. 

Members of the profession, whether on the bench or 
at the bar, seldom send their regard beyond the case 
directly before them. The lawyer is generally content 
with the applause of the court-house, the approbation 
of clients, "fat contentions, and flowing fees." Infre- 
quently does he render voluntary service felt beyond 
the limited circle in which he moves, or helping for- 
ward the landmarks of justice. The judge, in the dis- 
charge of his duty, applies the law to the case before 
him. He may do this discreetly, honorably, justly, 
benignly, in such wise that the community who looked 
to him for justi43e shall pronoimce his name with 
gratitude, — 

" That his bones, 
When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings, 
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em." 

But the function of lawyer or judge, both practising 
law, is unlike that of the jurist, who, whether judge 
or lawyer, examines every principle in the light of 
science, and, while doing justice, seeks to widen and 
confirm the means of justice hereafter. All ages have 
abounded in lawyers and judges ; there is no church- 
yard that does not contain their forgotten dust. But 
the jurist is rare. The judge passes the sentence of 
the law upon the prisoner at the bar face to face ; but 
the jurist, invisible to mortal sight, yet speaks, as was 
said of the Roman Law, swaying by the reason, when 
he has ceased to govern by the living voice. Such a 
character does not live for the present only, whether 
in time or place. Ascending above its temptations. 



THE AETIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 265 

yielding neither to the love of gain nor to the seduc- 
tion of ephemeral praise, he perseveres in those se- 
rene labors which help to bmld the mighty dome of 
Justice, beneath which aU men are to seek shelter and 
peace. 

It is not uncommon to hear the complaint of lawyers 
and judges, as they liken themselves, in short-lived 
fame, to the well-graced actor, of whom only uncertain 
traces remain when his voice has ceased to charm. But 
they labor for the present only. How can they hope to 
be remembered beyond the present ? They are instru- 
ments of a temporary and perishable purpose. How 
can they hope for more than they render ? They do 
nothing for all. How can they think to be remembered 
beyond the operation of their labors ? So far forth, in 
time or place, as any beneficent influence is felt, so far 
will its author be gratefully commemorated. Happy 
may he be, if he has done aught to connect his name 
with the enduring principles of justice ! 

In the world's history, lawgivers are among the great- 
est and most godlike characters. They are reform- 
ers of nations. They are builders of human society. 
They are fit companions of the master poets who fill 
it with their melody. Man will never forget Homer, 
Virgil, Dante, Shakespeare, Milton, Goethe, — nor those 
other names of creative force, Minos, Solon, Lycurgus, 
Numa, Justinian, St. Louis, Napoleon the legislator. 
Each is too closely linked with human progress not to 
be always remembered. 

In their train follow the company of jurists, whose 
labors have the value without the form of legislation, 
and whose recorded opinions, uttered from the chair of a 
professor, the bench of a judge, or, it may be, from the 



266 THE SCHOLAE, THE JtJEIST, 

seclusion of private life, continue to rule the nations. 
Here are Papinian, Tribonian, Paulus, Gains, ancient, 
time-honored masters of the Eoman Law, — Cujas, its 
most illustrious expounder in modern times, of whom 
D'Aguesseau said, " Cujas has spoken the language of 
the law better than any modern, and perhaps as well 
as any ancient," and whose renown during life, in the 
golden age of jurisprudence, was such that in the public 
schools of Germany, when his name was mentioned, all 
took off their hats, — Dumoulin, kinsman of our Eng- 
lish Queen Elizabeth, and most illustrious expounder 
of municipal law, one of whose books was said to have 
accomplished what thirty thousand soldiers of his mon- 
arch failed to do, — Hugo Grotius, filled with all knowl- 
edge and loving all truth, author of that marvellous 
work, at times divine, at other times, alas ! too much 
of this earth, the " Laws of War and Peace," — John 
Selden, who against Grotius vindicated for his country 
the dominion of the sea, supped with Ben Jonson at 
the Mermaid, and became, according to contemporary 
judgment, the great dictator of learning to the English 
nation, — D'Aguesseau, who brought scholarship to ju- 
risprudence throughout a long life elevated by justice 
and refined by all that character and study could be- 
stow, awakening admiration even at the outset, so that 
a retiring magistrate declared that he should be glad 
to end as the young man began, — Pothier, whose pro- 
fessor's chair was kissed in reverence by pilgrims from 
afar, while from his recluse life he sent forth those 
treatises which enter so largely into the invaluable 
codes of France, — Coke, the indefatigable, pedantic, 
but truly learned author and judge, Mansfield, the 
Chrysostom of the bench, and Blackstone, the ele- 



THE AETIST, THE PHILANTHKOPIST. 267 

gant commentator, who are among the few exemplars 
within the boast of the English Common Law, — and, 
descending to our o^vn day, Pardessus, of France, 
to whom commercial and maritime law is under a 
larger debt, perhaps, than to any single mind, — Thi- 
baut, of Germany, earnest and successful advocate of 
a just scheme for the reduction of the unwritten law 
to the certainty of a written text, — Savigny, also 
of Germany, renowned illustrator of the Eoman Law, 
who is yet spared to his favorite science, — and in 
our own country one now happily among us to-day by 
liis son,i James Kent, the unquestioned living head 
of American jurisprudence. These are among jurists. 
Let them not be confounded with the lawyer, bustling 
with forensic success, although, like Dunning, arbi- 
ter of Westminster Hall, or, like Pinkney, acknowl- 
edged chief of the American bar. The jurist is higher 
than the lawyer, — as Watt, who invented the steam- 
engine, is higher than the journeyman who feeds its 
fires and pours oil upon its irritated machinery, — as 
Washington is more exalted than the Swiss, who, indif- 
ferent to the cause, barters for money the vigor of his 
arm and the sharpness of his spear. 

The lawj^er is the honored artisan of the law. To- 
kens of worldly success surround him ; but his labors 
are on the things of to-day. His name is written on 
the sandy margin of the sounding sea, soon to be washed 
away by the embossed foam of the tyrannous wave. 
Not so is the name of the jurist. This is inscribed on 
the immortal tablets of the law. The ceaseless flow of 
ages does not wear off their indestructible front ; the 

1 Hon. William Kent, recently appointed Royall Professor of Law in 
Harvard University. 



268 THE SCHOLAE, THE JUKIST, 

hour-glass of Time refuses to measure the period of their 
duration. 

Into the company of Jurists Story has now passed, 
taking place, not only in the immediate history of his 
country, but in the grander history of civilization. It 
was a saying of his, often uttered in the confidence of 
friendship, that a man may be measured by the horizon 
of his mind, whether it embraces the village, town, 
county, or state in which he lives, or the whole broad 
country, — ay, the world itseK. In this spirit he lived 
and wrought, elevating himself above the present, and 
always finding in jurisprudence an absorbing inter- 
est. Only a few days before the illness ending in 
death, it was suggested to him, that, as he was about to 
retire from the bench, there were many who would be 
glad to see him President. He replied at once, sponta- 
neously, and without hesitation, " that the ofl&ce of 
President of the United States would not tempt him 
from his professor's chair and from the law." So 
spoke the Jurist. As la-wyer, judge, professor, he was 
always Jurist. While administering justice between 
parties, he sought to extract from their cause the ele- 
ments of future justice, and to advance the science of 
the law. Thus his judgments have a value stamped 
upon them which is not restricted to the occasions when 
they were pronounced. Like the gold coin of the Ee- 
public, they bear the image and superscription of sov- 
ereignty, which is recognized wherever they go, even 
in foreign lands. 

Many years ago his judgments in matters of Admi- 
ralty and Prize arrested the attention of that famous 
judge and jurist, Lord Stowell ; and Sir James Mackin- 
tosh, a name emblazoned by literature and jurisprudence. 



THE AETIST, THE PHILANTHKOPIST. 269 

said of them, that they were "justly admired by all cul- 
tivators of the Law of Nations." ^ He has often been 
cited as authority in Westminster Hall, — an English 
tribute to a foreign jurist almost unprecedented, as aU 
familiar with English law will know ; and the Chief 
Justice of England made the remarkable declaration, 
with regard to a point on which Story differed from 
the Queen's Bench, that his opinion would "at least 
neutralize the effect of the English decision, and in- 
duce any of their courts to consider the question as 
an o]3en one."^ In the House of Lords, Lord Camp- 
bell characterized him as " one of the greatest orna- 
ments of the United States, who had a greater reputa- 
tion as a legal writer than any author England could 
boast since the days of Blackstone " ; ^ and, in a letter 
to our departed brother, the same distinguished mag- 
istrate said : " I survey with increased astonishment 
your extensive, minute, exact, and familiar knowledge 
of English legal writers in every department of the law. 
A similar testimony to your juridical learning, I make 
no doubt, would be offered by the lawyers of France and 
Germany, as well as of America, and we should all con- 
cur in placing you at the head of the jurists of the pres- 
ent age." * His authority was acknowledged in France 
and Germany, the classic lands of jurisprudence ; nor is 
it too much to say, that at the moment of his death he 

1 Letter of Sir James Mackintosh to Hon. Edward Everett, dated Jiine 3, 
1824 : Life and Letters of Story, Vol. L p. 435. 

2 Letter of Lord Denman to Charles Sumner, Esq., dated September 29, 
1840: Life and Letters of Story, Vol. IL p. 379. The case to which Lord 
Denman referred was that of Peters v. Tlie Warren Insurance Company, 
3 Sumner's Eep. 389, whore Mr. .Justice Story dissented from the case of 
De Vaux v. Salvador, 4 Adolph. & Ellis, 420. 

8 Hansard, Pari. Deb., LXVHL 667 

4 Life and Letters of Story, Vol. 11. p. 429. 



270 THE SCHOLAE, THE JUKIST, 

enjoyed a renown such as had never "before been achieved, 
during life, by any jurist of the Common Law. 

In this recital I state simply facts, without intending 
to assert presumptuously for our brother any precedence 
in the scale of eminence. The extent of his fame 
is a fact. It will not be forgotten, as a proper con- 
trast to his fame, which was not confined to his own 
country or to England, that the cultivators of the Com- 
mon Law have hitherto enjoyed little more than an insu- 
lar reputation, and that even its great master received 
on the Continent no higher designation than quidam 
Cocus, " one Coke. " 

In the Common Law was the spirit of liberty ; in that 
of the Continent the spirit of science. The Common 
Law has given to the world trial by jury, habeas corpus, 
parliamentary representation, the rules and orders of 
debate, and that benign principle which pronounces that 
its air is too pure for a slave to breathe, — perhaps the 
five most important political establishments of modern 
times. From the Continent proceeded the important 
impulse to the systematic study, arrangement, and de- 
velopment of the law, — also the example of Law Schools 
and of Codes. 

Story was bred in the Common Law ; but while ad- 
miring its vital principles of freedom, he felt how much 
it would gain from science, and from other systems of 
jurisprudence. In his later labors he never forgot this 
object ; and under his hands we behold the development 
of a study until him little known or regarded, — the 
science of Comparative Jurisprudence, kindred to those 
other departments of knowledge which exhibit the rela- 
tions of the hiunan family, and showing that amidst 
diversity there is unity. 



THE AETIST, THE PHILANTHKOPIST. 271 

I need not add that lie emulated the law schools of 
the Continent, — as " ever witness for him " this seat 
of learning. 

On more than one occasion, he urged, with conclusive 
force, the importance of reducing the unwritten law to 
the certainty of a code, compiling and bringing into 
one body fragments now scattered in all directions, 
through the pages of many thousand volumes.^ His 
views on this subject, while differing from those of 
John Locke and Jeremy Bentham, — both of whom 
supposed themselves able to clothe a people in a new 
code, as in fres!*^ garments, — are in substantial har- 
mony with the conclusions now adopted by the jurists 
of Continental Europe, and not unlike those of an ear- 
lier age having the authority of Bacon and Leibnitz, 
the two greatest intellects ever applied to topics of 
jurisprudence in modern times.^ 

In this catholic spirit he showed true eminence. He 
loved the law with a lover's fondness, but not with a 
lover's blindness. He could not join with those devo- 
tees of the Common Law by whom it is entitled " the 
perfection of reason," — an anachronism great as the 
assumed infallibility of the Pope : as if perfection or 
infallibility existed in this world ! He was led, in be- 
coming temper, to contemplate its amendment ; and 
here is revealed the Jurist, — not content with the pres- 
ent, but thoughtful of the future. In a letter pub- 
lished since his death, he refers with sorrow to " what 

1 Encyclopsedia Americana, article Law, Legislation, Codes, Appendix to 
Vol. VII. pp. 576 - 592. Report of the Commissioners of Massachusetts on 
the Codification of the Common Law. American Jurist, Vol. XVII. p. 17. 

2 Bacon, Offer to King James of a Digest to be made of the Laws of Eng- 
land : Works, Vol. 11. p. 548, 4to ed. Leibnitz, Ratio Corporis Juris recon- 
cinnandi; Epist. XV., ad Kestnerum: Opera, Tom. IV. Pars iii. pp. 235, 269. 



272 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

is but too common in our profession, — a disposition to 
resist innovation, even when it is improvement." It 
is an elevated mind that, having mastered the sub- 
tilties of the law, is willing to reform them. 

And now farewell to thee. Jurist, Master, Benefactor, 
Friend ! May thy spirit continue to inspire a love for 
the science of the law ! May thy example be ever fresh 
in the minds of the young, beaming, as in Kfe, with en- 
couragement, kindness, and joy ! 



From the grave of the Jurist, at Mount Auburn, let 
us walk to that of the Artist, who sleeps beneath the 
protecting arms of those trees which cast their shadow 
into this church. Washington Allston died in the 
month of July, 1843, aged sixty -three, having reached 
the grand climacteric, that famous mile-stone on the 
road of life. It was Saturday night ; the cares of the 
week were over ; the pencil and brush were laid in re- 
pose ; the great canvas, on which for many years he 
had sought to perpetuate the image of Daniel confront- 
ing the soothsayers of Belshazzar, was left, with fresh 
chalk lines designating the labor to be resumed after 
the repose of the Sabbath ; the evening was passed in 
the converse of family and friends ; words of benedic- 
tion had fallen from his lips upon a beloved relative ; all 
had retired for the night, leaving him alone, in health, to 
receive the visitation of Death, sudden, b^^t not unpre- 
pared for. Happy lot, thus to be borne away with 
blessings on the lips, — not through the long valley of 
disease, amidst the sharpness of pain, and the darkness 
that clouds the slowly departing spirit, but straight up- 
ward, through realm-S of light, swiftly, yet gently, as on 
the wings of a dove ! 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 273 

The early shades of evening began to prevail before 
the body of the Artist reached its last resting-place ; 
and the solemn service of the church was read in the 
open air, by the flickering flame of a torch, — fit image 
of life. In the group of mourners who bore a last trib- 
ute to what was mortal in him of whom so much was 
immortal stood our Jurist. Overflowing with tender- 
ness and appreciation of merit in all its forms, his soul 
was touched by the scene. In \dvid words, as he slowly 
left the church-yard, he poured forth his admiration and 
his grief. Never was such an Artist mourned by such a 
Jurist. 

Of Allston may we repeat the words in which Burke 
commemorated his friend Sir Joshua Eeynolds, when he 
says, "He was the first who added the praise of the 
elegant arts to the other glories of his country." ^ An 
ingenious English writer, who sees Art with the eye of 
taste and humanity, and whom I quote with sympathy, 
if not with entire assent, has said, in a recent publica- 
tion on our Artist, " It seemed to me that in him 
America had lost her third great man. What Washing- 
ton was as a statesman, Channing as a moralist, that was 
Allston as an artist." ^ 

Here again is discerned the inseparable union between 
character and works. Allston was a good man, with a 
soul refined by purity, exalted by religion, softened by 
love. In mamier he was simple, yet courtly, — quiet, 
though anxious to please, — kindly to all alike, the poor 
and lowly not less than the rich and great. As he 
spoke, in that voice of gentlest utterance, aU were 

1 Prior, Life of Btirke, Vol. IL p. 190. 

2 Mrs. Jameson, Memoirs and Essays: WaMngton Allston, p. 126. (New 
York, 1846.) 

VOL. I. — 18 



274 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

charmed to listen ; and the airy-footed hours often 
tripped on far towards the gates of morning, before his 
friends could break from his spell. His character is 
transfigured in his works. The Artist is always in- 
spired by the man. 

His life was consecrated to Art. He lived to diffuse 
Beauty, as writer, poet, painter. As an expounder of 
principles in his art, he will take a place with Leo- 
nardo da Vinci, Albert Diirer, Sir Joshua Eeynolds, and 
Fuseli. His theory of painting, as developed in his 
stni unpublished discourses, and in that tale of beauty, 
" Monaldi," is an instructive memorial of conscientious 
study. In the small group of painter-poets — poets 
by the double title of pencil and pen — he holds an 
honored place. His ode "America to Great Britain," 
which is among the choice lyrics of the language, is su- 
perior to the satirical verse of Salvator Kosa, and may 
claim companionship with the remarkable sonnets of 
Michel Angelo. It was this which made no less a judge 
than Southey place him among the first poets of the 
age. 

In youth, while yet a pupil at the University, his 
busy fingers found pleasure in drawing ; and a pen-and- 
ink sketch from his hand at that time is still preserved 
in the records of a college society. Shortly after leav- 
ing Cambridge he repaired to Europe, in the pursuit of 
Art. At Paris were then collected the masterpieces of 
painting and sculpture, the spoils of unholy war, robbed 
from their native galleries and churches to swell the 
pomp of the Imperial capital. There our Artist devoted 
his days to diligent study of his profession, particu- 
larly to drawing, so important to accurate art. At a 
later day, alluding to these thorough labors, he said he 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 275 

" worked like a mechanic." To these, perhaps, may be 
referred his singular excellence in that necessary, but 
neglected branch, which is to Art what grammar is to 
language. Grammar and Design are treated by Aris- 
totle on a level. 

Turning his back upon Paris and the greatness of the 
Empire, he directed his steps towards Italy, the en- 
chanted ground of Kterature, history, and art, — strown 
with richest memorials of the Past, — filled with scenes 
memorable in the Progress of Man, — teaching by the 
pages of philosophers and historians, — vocal with the 
melody of poets, — ringing with the music which St. 
Cecilia protects, — glowing with the living marble and 
canvas, — beneath a sky of heavenly purity and 
brightness, — with the sunsets which Claude has paint- 
ed, — parted by the Apennines, early witnesses of the 
unrecorded Etruscan civilization, — surrounded by the 
snow-capped Alps, and the blue, classic waters of the 
Mediterranean Sea. The deluge of war submerging 
Europe had subsided here, and our Artist took up his 
peaceful abode in Eome, the modern home of Art. 
Strange vicissitude of condition ! Eome, sole surviving 
city of Antiquity, once disdaining all that could be 
wrought by the cunning hand of sculpture, — 

" Excudent alii spirantia mollius sera, 
Credo equidem : vivos ducent de marmore vultus," — 

who has commanded the world by her arms, her ju- 
risprudence, her church, — now sways it further by 
her arts. Pilgrims from afar, where her eagles, her 
prsetors, her interdicts never reached, become willing 
subjects of this new empire ; and the Vatican, stored 
with the priceless remains of Antiquity, and the touch- 
ing creations of modern art, has succeeded to the Vati- 



276 THE SCHOLAK, THE JUEIST, 

can whose thunders intermingled with the strifes of 
modern Europe. 

At Eome he was happy in the friendship of Cole- 
ridge, and in long walks cheered by his companionship. 
We can well imagine that the author of " Genevieve " 
and " The Ancient Mariner " would find sympathy with 
Allston. It is easy to recall these two natures, trem- 
blingly alive to beauty of all kinds, looking together 
upon those majestic ruins, upon the manifold accumu- 
lations of Time, upon the marble which almost speaks, 
and upon the warmer canvas, — listening together to 
the flow of perpetual fountains, fed by ancient aque- 
ducts, — musing together in the Forum on the mighty 
footprints of History, — and enteriag together, with 
sympathetic awe, that grand Christian church whose 
dome rises a majestic symbol of the comprehensive 
Christianity which is the promise of the Future. 
" Never judge a work of art by its defects," was a 
lesson of Coleridge to his companion, which, when 
extended, by natural expansion, to the other things of 
life, is a sentiment of justice and charity, more precious 
than a statue of Praxiteles or a picture of Eaphael. 

In England, where our Artist afterwards passed sev- 
eral years, his intercourse with Coleridge was renewed, 
and he became the friend and companion of Lamb and 
Wordsworth also. Eeturning to his own coimtry, he 
spoke of them with fondness, and often dwelt upon 
their genius and virtue. 

In considering his character as an Artist, we may re- 
gard him in three different respects, — drawing, color, 
and expression or sentiment. It has already been seen 
that he devoted himself with uncommon zeal to draw- 
ing;. His works bear witness to this excellence. There 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 277 

are chalk outlines by him, sketched on canvas, wliich 
are clear and definite as anything from the classic touch 
of Flaxman. 

His excellence in color was remarkable. This seem- 
ing mystery, which is a distinguishing characteristic of 
artists in different schools, periods, and countries, is not 
unlike that of language in literature. Color is to the 
painter what words are to the author ; and as the writers 
of one age or place arrive at a peculiar mastery in lan- 
guage, so do artists excel in color. It would be difficult 
to account satisfactorily for the rich idiom suddenly as- 
sumed by our English tongue in the contemporaneous 
prose of Sidney, Hooker, and Bacon, and in the unap- 
proached affluence of Shakespeare. It might be as 
difficult to account for the unequalled tints which shone 
on the canvas of Tintoretto, Paul Veronese, and Titian, 
masters of what is called the Venetian School. Igno- 
rance has sometimes referred these glories to concealed 
or lost artistic rules in combinations of color, not think- 
ing that they can be traced only to a native talent 
for color, prompted into activity by circumstances diffi- 
cult at this late period to determine. As some possess 
a peculiar, untaught felicity and copiousness of words 
without accurate knowledge of grammar, so there are 
artists excelling in rich and splendid color, but ignorant 
of drawing, and, on the other hand, accurate drawing 
is sometimes coldly clad in unsatisfactory color. 

Allston was largely endowed by Nature with the 
talent for color, which was strongly developed under 
the influence of Italian art. While in Eome, he was 
remarked for his excellence in tliis respect, and re- 
ceived from German painters there the flattering title of 
" American Titian." Critics of authority have said that 



278 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

the clearness and vigor of his color approached that of 
the elder masters.^ Eich and harmonious as the verses 
of the " Faery Queen," it was uniformly soft, mellow, and 
appropriate, without the garish brilliancy of the modern 
French School, calling to mind the saying of the bhnd 
man, that red resembles the notes of a trumpet. 

He affected no secret or mystery in the preparation 
of colors. What he knew he was ready to impart : his 
genius he could not impart. With simple pigments, ac- 
cessible to all alike, he reproduced, with glowing brush, 
the tints of Nature. All that his eyes looked upon fur- 
nished a lesson. The flowers of the field, the foliage of 
the forest, the sunset glories of our western horizon, the 
transparent azure above, the blackness of the storm, the 
soft gray of twilight, the haze of an Indian summer, 
the human countenance animate with thought, and that 
finest color in Nature, according to the ancient Greek, 
the blush of ingenuous youth, — these were the sources 
from which he drew. With a discerning spirit he 
mixed them on liis palette, and with the eye of sym- 
pathy saw tliem again on his canvas. 

But richness of color superadded to accuracy of 
drawing cannot secure the highest place in Art ; and 
here I approach a more harmonious topic. Expression, 
or, in other words, the sentiment, the thought, the soul, 
which inspires the work, is not less important than that 
which animates the printed page or beams from the 
human countenance. The mere imitation of inanimate 
Nature belongs to the humbler schools of Art. The 
skill of Zeuxis, which drew birds to peck at the grapes 
on his canvas, and the triumph of Parrhasius, who de- 

1 Bunsen, Beschreibung der Stadt Rom, Band I. p. 588. Article on 
Modern Art, by K. Platner. 



THE AETIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 279 

ceived his rival by a painted curtain, cannot compare 
with those pictures which seem articulate with the 
voices of humanity. The highest form of Art is that 
which represents man in the highest scenes and under 
the influence of the highest sentiments. And that 
quality or characteristic called expression is the highest 
element of Art. It is this which gives to Eaphael, 
who yields to Titian in color, such acknowledged emi- 
nence. His soul was brimming with sympathies, which 
his cunning hand kept ahve in immortal pictures. Eye, 
mouth, coimtenance, the whole composition, has life, — 
not the life of mere imitation, copied from common 
Nature, but elevated, softened, refined, idealized. Be- 
holding his works, we forget the colors in which they 
are robed ; we gaze at living forms, and look behind 
the painted screen of flesh into living souls. A genius 
so largely endowed with the Promethean fire has been 
not unaptly called Divine. 

It was said by Plato that nothing is beautiful which 
is not morally good. But this is not a faultless propo- 
sition. Beauty is of all kinds and degrees ; and it ex- 
ists everywhere beneath the celestial canopy, in us and 
about us. It is that completeness or finish which 
gives pleasure to the mind. It is found in the color 
of a flower, and the accuracy of geometry, — in an 
act of self-sacrifice, and the rhythm of a poem, — 
in the virtues of humanity, and the marvels of the 
visible world, — in the meditations of a solitary soul, 
and the stupendous mechanism of civil society. There 
is beauty where there is neither life nor morality ; but 
the highest form of beauty is in the perfection of the 
moral nature. 

The highest beauty of expression is a grace of Chris- 



280 THE SCHOLAK, THE JURIST, 

tian art. It flows from sensibilities, affections, and 
struggles peculiar to the Christian character. It breathes 
purity, gentleness, meekness, patience, tenderness, peace. 
It abhors pride, vain-glory, selfishness, intemperance, 
lust, war. How celestial, compared with that which 
dwells in perfection of form or color only ! The beauty 
of ancient art found congenial expression in the fault- 
less form of Aphrodite rising from the sea,^ and in 
the majestic mien of Juno, with snow-white arms, 
and royal robes, seated on a throne of gold,^ — not 
in the soul-lit countenance of her who watched the in- 
fant in his manger-cradle, and throbbed with a mother's 
heart beneath the agonies of the cross. 

AUston was a Christian artist ; and the beauty of 
expression lends uncommon charm to his colors. All 
that he did shows purity, sensibility, refinement, deli- 
cacy, feeling, rather than force. His genius was al- 
most feminine. As he advanced in years, this was more 
remarked. His pictures became more and more instinct 
with those sentiments which form the true glory of Art. 
Early in life he had a partiality for pieces representing 
banditti; but this taste does not appear in his later 
works. And when asked if he would undertake to fill 
the vacant panels in the rotunda of the Capitol at 
Washington, should Congress determine to order such 
a work, he is reported to have said, in memorable 
words, " I wiU paint only one subject, and choose my 
own : iVb hattle-piece ! " ^ This incident, so honorable to 
the Artist, is questioned ; but it is certain that on 
more than one occasion he avowed a disinclination to 

1 Ovid, Tristia, Lib. H. 527. 

2 Martial, Epig., Lib. X. 89. 

8 Dunlap's History of the Arts of Design, Vol. 11. p. 188. Mrs. Jameson's 
Memoirs and Essays : Washington Allston, p. 114. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 281 

paint iaUle-jpieces. I am not aware if lie assigned any 
reason. Is it too much to suppose that his refined 
artistic sense, recognizing expression as the highest 
beauty of Art, unconsciously judged the picture ? The 
ancient Greek epigram, describing the Philoctetes of 
Parrhasius, an image of hopeless wretchedness and con- 
suming grief, rises to a like sentiment, when it says, 
with mild rebuke, — 

"We blame thee, painter, though thy skill commend; 
'T was time his sufferings with himself should end." i 

In another tone, and with cold indifference to human 
suffering, Lucretius sings, in often-quoted verse, that 
it is pleasant, when beyond the reach of danger, to be- 
hold the shock of contending armies : — 

" Suave etiam belli certamina magna tueri." 2 

In like heathen spirit, it may be pleasant to behold 
a battle-piece in Art. But this is wrong. Admitting 
the calamitous necessity of war, it can never be with 
pleasure — it cannot be without sadness unspeakable — 
that we survey its fiendish encounter. The artist of 
purest aim, sensitive to these emotions, withdraws 
naturally from the field of blood, confessing that no 
scene of battle finds a place in the highest Art, — that 
man, created in the image of God, can never be pic- 
tured degrading, profaning, violating that sacred image. 
Were this sentiment adopted in literature as in Art, 
war would be shorn of its false glory. Poet, historian, 
orator, all should join with the Artist in saying, No 
hattle-piece ! Let them cease to dwell, except with 
pain and reprobation, upon those dismal exhibitions of 

1 Anthol. Lib. IV. Tit. viii. Ep. 26. 

2 Lucretius, De Rerum Natura, Lib. II. 6. 



282 THE SCHOLAE, THE JUEIST, 

human passion where the life of friends is devoted to 
procure the death of enemies. No pen, no tongue, no 
pencil, by praise or picture, can dignify scenes from 
which God averts His eye. It is true, man has slain 
his fellow-man, armies have rushed in deadly shock 
against armies, the blood of brothers has been spilled. 
These are tragedies which History enters sorrowfully, 
tearfully, in her faithful record ; but this generous Muse 
with too attractive colors must not perpetuate the pas- 
sions from which they sprang -or the griefs they caused. 
Be it her duty to dwell with eulogy and pride on all 
that is magnanimous, lovely, beneficent ; let this be 
preserved by votive canvas and marble also. But No 
lattle-piece ! 

In the progress of truth, the animal passions degrad- 
ing our nature are by degrees checked and subdued. 
The license of lust and the brutality of intemperance, 
marking a civilization inferior to our own, are at last 
driven from public display. Faithful Art reflects the 
character of the age. To its honor, libertinism and in- 
temperance no longer intrude their obscene faces into 
its pictures. The time is at hand when religion, hu- 
manity, and taste will concur in rejecting any image 
of human strife. Lais and Phryne have fled ; Bacchus 
and Silenus are driven reeling from the scene. Mars 
will soon follow, howling, as with that wound from the 
Grecian spear before Troy. The Hall of Battles, at 
Versailles, where Louis Philippe, the inconsistent con- 
servator of peace, has arrayed, on acres of canvas, the 
bloody contests in the long history of France, will be 
shut by a generation appreciating true greatness. 

In the mission of teaching to nations and to individ- 
uals wherein is true greatness. Art has a noble office. 



THE AKTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 283 

If not herald, she is at least handmaid of Truth. Her 
lessons may not train the intellect, but they cannot 
fail to touch the heart. Who can measure the influence 
from an image of beauty, affection, and truth ? The 
Christus Consolator of Scheffer, without a word, wins 
the soul. Such a work awakens lasting homage to the 
artist, and to the spirit from which it proceeds, while it 
takes its place with things that never die. Other works, 
springing from the lower passions, are no better than 
gaudy, perishing flowers of earth ; but here is peren- 
nial, amaranthine bloom. 

Allston loved excellence for its own sake. He looked 
down upon the common strife for worldly consideration. 
With impressive beauty of truth and expression, he 
said, " Fame is the eternal shadow of excellence, from 
which it can never be separated." ^ Here is a vol- 
ume, prompting to noble thought and action, not for 
the sake of glory, but for advance in knowledge, vir- 
tue, excellence. Our Artist gives renewed utterance to 
that sentiment which is the highest grace in the life 
of the great magistrate, Lord Mansfield, when, confess- 
ing the attractions of " popularity," he said it was that 
which followed, not which was followed after. 

As we contemplate the life and works of Allston, we 
are inexpressibly grateful that he lived. His example 
is one of our best possessions. And yet, while rejoicing 
that he has done much, we seem to hear a whisper that 
he might have done more. His productions suggest a 
higher genius than they display ; and we are disposed 
sometimes to praise the master rather than the work. 
Like a beloved character in English literature. Sir James 
Mackintosh, he finally closed a career of beautiful, but 

1 Mrs. Jameson, Memoirs and Essays : Washington Allston, p. 118. 



284 THE SCHOLAK, THE JUEIST, 

fragmentary labors, leaving much undone which all had 

hoped he would do. The great painting wliich haunted 

so many years of his life, and which his friends 

and country awaited with anxious interest, remained 1 

unfinished at last. His Virgilian sensibility and mod- 

esty would doubtless have ordered its destruction, had 

death arrested him less suddenly. Titian died, leaving 

incomplete, like Allston, an important picture, on which 

his hand was busy down to the time of his death. A 

pious and distinguished pupil, the younger Palma, took 

up the labor of his master, and, on its completion, 

placed it in the church for which it was destined, with 

this inscription : " That which Titian left imfinished 

Palma reverently completed, and dedicated to God." 

Where is the Palma who can complete what our Titian 

has left unfinished ? 



Let us now devoutly approach the grave of the 
brother whom, in order of time, we were first called to 
mourn. William Ellery Channing, the Philanthro- 
pist, died in the month of October, 1842, aged sixty- 
two. By an easy transition we pass from Allston to 
Channing. They were friends and connections. The 
monumental stone which marks the last resting-place 
of the Philanthropist was designed by the Artist. In 
physical organization they were not unlike, each pos- 
sessing a fineness of fibre hardly belonging to the 
Anglo-Saxon stock. In both we observe similar sen- 
sibility, delicacy, refinement, and truth, with highest 
aims ; and the color of Allston finds a parallel in the 
Venetian richness which marks the style of Chan- 
ning, 



THE AETIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 285 

I do not speak of him as Theologian, although his 
labors have earned this title also. It is probable that 
no single mind, in our age, has exerted a greater in- 
fluence over theological opinions. But I pass all this 
by, without presuming to indicate its character. Far 
better dweU on those labors which should not fail to 
find favor in all churches, whether at Eome, Geneva, 
Canterbury, or Boston. 

His influence is widely felt and acknowledged. His 
words have been heard and read by thousands, in all 
conditions of life, and in various lands, whose hearts 
now throb with gratitude towards the meek and elo- 
quent upholder of divine truth. An American travel- 
ler, at a small village nestling on a terrace of the 
Tyrolese Alps, encountered a German, who, hearing 
that his companion was from Boston, inquired earnestly 
after Channing, — saying that the difficulty of learning 
the English language was adequately repaid by the 
charm of his waitings. A distinguished stranger, when 
about to visit our country, was told by a relative not 
less lovely in character than elevated in condition, tliat 
she envied him his journey " for the sake of Niagara 
and Channing." "We have abeady observed that a 
critic of Art places him in an American triumvirate 
with Allston and Washington. More frequently he is 
associated with Washington and Franklin. Unlike 
Washington, he was never general or president ; unlike 
Franklin, he never held high office. But it would be 
difficult to say that since them any American has 
exerted greater sway over his fellow-men. And yet, 
if it be asked what single measure he carried to a suc- 
cessful close, I could not answer. It is on character 
that he has wrought and is still producing incalculable 



286 THE SCHOLAK, THE JUKIST, 

change. So extensive is this influence, that multitudes 
now feel it, although strangers to his spoken or even 
his written word. The whole country and age feel it. 

I have called him Philanthropist, lover of man, — the 
title of highest honor on earth. " I take goodness in 
this sense," says Lord Bacon, in his Essays, " the affect- 
ing of the weal of Tnen, which is that the Grecians call 

Philanthropia This of all virtues and dignities 

of the mind is the greatest, being the character of the 
Deity ; and without it man is a busy, mischievous, 
wretched thing, no better than a kind of vermin." Lord 
Bacon was right. Confessing the attractions of scholar- 
ship, awed by the majesty of the law, fascinated by the 
beauty of Art, the soul bends with involuntary rever- 
ence before the angelic nature that seeks the good of 
his fellow-man. Through him God speaks. On him 
has descended in especial measure the Divine Spirit. 
God is Love ; and man, when most active in good 
works, most nearly resembles Him. In heaven, we are 
told, the first place or degree is given to the angels of 
love, who are termed Seraphim, — the second to the 
angels of light, who are termed Cherubim. 

Sorrowfully it must be confessed that the time has 
not come when even his exalted labors find equal ac- 
ceptance with all men. And now, as I undertake to 
speak of them in this presence, I seem to tread on half- 
buried cinders. I shall tread fearlessly, loyal ever, I 
hope, to the occasion, to my subject, and to myself. In 
the language of my own profession, I shall not travel 
out of the record ; but I must be true to the record. 
It is fit that his name should be commemorated here. 
He was one of us. He was a son of the University, 
enrolled also among its teachers, and for many years a 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHEOPIST. 287 

FeUow of the Corporation. To him, more, perhaps, 
than to any other person, is she indebted for her most 
distinctive opinions. His fame is indissolubly con- 
nected with hers : — 

" And when thy ruins shall disclaim 
To be the treasurer of his name, 
His name, that cannot die, shall be 
An everlasting monument to thee." l 

I have called him Philanthropist : he may also be 
called Moralist, for he was the expounder of human 
duties ; but his exposition of duties was another service 
to humanity. His morality, elevated by Christian love, 
fortified by Christian righteousness, was frankly ap- 
plied to the people and affairs of his own country and 
age. He saw full well, that, in contest with wrong, 
more was needed than a declaration of simple prin- 
ciples. A general morality is too vague for action. 
Tamerlane and Napoleon both might join in general 
praise of peace, and entitle themselves to be enrolled, 
with Alexander of Eussia, as members of a Peace So- 
ciety. Many satisfy the conscience by such generalities. 
This was not the case with our Philanthropist. He 
brought his morality to bear distinctly upon the world. 
Nor was he disturbed by another suggestion, which the 
moralist often encounters, that his views were sound in 
theory, but not practical. He well knew that what is 
unsound in theory must be vicious in practice. Un- 
disturbed by hostile criticism, he did not hesitate to 
arraign the wrong he discerned, and fasten upon it 
the mark of Cain. His philanthropy was morality in 
action. 

As a moralist, he knew that the truest happiness 

1 Ben Jonson's inscription for the " pious marble " in honor of Drayton. 



288 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

is reached only by following the Eight ; and as a lover 
of man, he sought on all occasions to inculcate this 
supreme duty, which he addressed to nations and indi- 
viduals alike. In this attempt to open the gates of a 
new civilization, he encountered prejudice and error. 
The principles of morality, first possessing the individ- 
ual, slowly pervade the body politic ; and we are often 
told, in extenuation of war and conquest, that the nation 
and the individual are governed by separate laws, — 
that the nation may do what an individual may not do. 
In combating this pernicious fallacy, Channing was a 
benefactor. He helped to bring government within 
the Christian circle, and taught the statesman that 
there is one comprehensive rule, binding on the con- 
science in public affairs, as in private affairs. This truth 
cannot be too often proclaimed. Pulpit, press, school, 
college, all should render it familiar to the ear, and pour 
it into the soul. Beneficent Nature joins with the mor- 
alist in declaring the universahty of God's law; the 
flowers of the field, the rays of the sim, the morning 
and evening dews, the descending showers, the waves of 
the sea, the breezes that fan our cheeks and bear rich 
argosies from shore to shore, the careering storm, all on 
this earth, — nay, more, the system of which this earth 
is a part, and the infinitude of the Universe, in which 
our system dwindles to a grain of sand, all declare one 
prevailing law, knowing no distinction of person, num- 
ber, mass, or extent. 

While Channing commended this truth, he fervently 
recoonized the Eiijhts of Man. He saw in our institu- 
tions, as established in 1776, the animating idea of Hu- 
man Eights, distinguishing us from other countries. It 
was this idea, which, first appearing at our nativity as a 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 289 

nation, shone on the path of our fathers, as the unac- 
customed star in the west which twinkled over Bethle- 
hem. 

Kindred to the idea of Human Eights was that other, 
which appears so often in his writings as to inspire his 
whole philanthropy, the importance of the Individual 
Man. No human soul so abject in condition as not 
to find sympathy and reverence from him. He con- 
fessed brotherhood with all God's children, although 
separated from them by rivers, mountains, and seas, — 
although a torrid sun had left upon them an unchange- 
able Ethiopian skin. Filled with this thought, he was 
untiring in effort to promote their elevation and happi- 
ness. He yearned to do good, to be a spring of life and 
light to Ms fellow-men. " I see nothing worth living 
for," he said, " but the di\dne virtue which endures and. 
surrenders all things for truth, duty, and mankind." In 
this spirit, so long as he lived, he was the constant 
champion of Humanity. 

In the cause of education and of temperance he was 
earnest. He saw how essential to a people govern- 
ing themselves was knowledge, — that without it the 
right of voting would be a dangerous privilege, and that 
with it the nation would be elevated with new means 
of happiness and power. His vivid imagination saw 
the blight of intemperance, and exposed it in glowing 
colors. In these efforts he was sustained by the kindly 
sympathy of those among whom he lived. 

There were two other causes in which, more than 
any other, his soul was enlisted, especially toward the 
close of life, and with which his name will be in- 
separably associated, — I mean the efforts for the abo- 
lition of those two terrible scourges, Slavery and War. 

VOL. I. — 19 



290 THE SCHOLAE, THE JURIST, 

All will see that I cannot pass these by on this occa- 
sion ; for not to speak of them would be to present a 
portrait in which the most distinctive features were 
wanting. 

And, first, as to Slavery. To this his attention was 
particularly drawn by early residence in Virginia, and a 
season subsequently in one of the West India Islands. 
His soul was moved by its injustice and inhumanity. 
He saw in it an infraction of God's great laws of Eight 
and Love, and of the Christian precept, " Whatsoever 
ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to 
them." Eegarding it contrary to the law of Nature, the 
Philanthropist unconsciously adopted the conclusions of 
the Supreme Court of the United States, speaking by 
the mouth of Chief Justice MarshaU,^ and of the Su- 
preme Court of Massachusetts, at a later day, speaking 
by the mouth of Chief Justice Shaw. A solemn decis- 
ion, now belonging to the jurisprudence of this Com- 
monwealth, declares that " slavery is contrary to natu- 
ral right, to the principles of justice, humanity, and 
sound pohcy." ^ 

With these convictions, his duty as Moralist and Phi- 
lanthropist did not admit of question. He saw before 
him a giant wrong. Almost alone he went forth to the 
contest. On his return from the West Indies, he first 
declared himself from the pulpit. At a later day, he 
published a book entitled "Slavery," the most consider- 
able treatise from his pen. His object, as he testifies, 
was "to oppose slavery on principles which, if ad- 
mitted, would inspire resistance to all the wrongs and 
reverence for all the rights of human nature." ^ Other 

1 The Antelope, 10 Wheaton's Rep. 211. 

2 Commonwealth v. Aves, 18 Pick. 211. 

3 Letter to Blanco White, July 29, 1836: Life of Wliite, Vol. IL p. 251, 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 291 

publications followed down to the close of his life, 
among which was a prophetic letter, addressed to 
Henry Clay, against the annexation of Texas, on the 
ground that it woidd entail war with Mexico and the 
extension of slavery. It is interesting to know that 
this letter, before its publication, was read to his class- 
mate Story, who listened to it with admiration and 
assent ; so that the Jurist and the Philanthropist joined 
in this cause. 

In his defence of African liberty he invoked always 
the unanswerable considerations of justice and human- 
ity. The argument of economy, deemed by some to 
contain aU that is pertinent, never presented itself to 
him. The question of profit and loss was absorbed in 
the question of right and wrong. His maxim was, — 
Anything but slavery; poverty sooner than slavery. 
But while exhibiting this institution in blackest colors, 
as inhuman, unjust, unchristian, unworthy of an en- 
lightened age and of a republic professing freedom, his 
gentle nature found no word of harshness for those 
whom birth, education, and custom bred to its support. 
Implacable towards wrong, he used mild words to- 
wards wrong-doers. He looked forward to the day when 
they too, encompassed by a moral Uockade, invisible to 
the eye, but more potent than navies, and under the 
influence of increasing light, diffused from all the na- 
tions, must acknowledge the wrong, and set the captive 
free. 

He urged the duty — such was his unequivocal 
language — incumbent on the Northern States to free 
themselves from all support of slavery. To this con- 
clusion he was driven irresistibly by the ethical princi- 
ple, that what is wrong for the individual is wrong for 



292 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

the state. No son of the Pilgrims can hold a fellow- 
man in bondage. Conscience forbids. No son of the 
Pilgrims can, through Government, hold a fellow- 
man in bondage. Conscience equally forbids. We 
have among us to-day a brother who, reducing to prac- 
tice the teachings of Channing and the suggestions of 
his own soul, has liberated the slaves which fell to 
him by inheritance. Our homage to this act attests 
the obligation upon ourselves. In asking the Free 
States to disconnect themselves from all support of 
slavery, Channing called them to do as States what 
Palfrey has done as man. At the same time he 
dwelt with affectionate care upon the Union. He 
sought to reform, not to destroy, — to eradicate, not to 
overturn; and he cherished the Union as mother of 
peace, plenteousness, and joy. 

Such were some of his labors for liberty. The mind 
instinctively recalls the parallel exertions of John Mil- 
ton. He, too, was a defender of liberty. His " Defence 
of the People of England " drew to him, living, a larger 
fame than his sublime epic. But Channing's labors 
were of a higher order, more instinct with Christian 
sentiment, more truly worthy of renown. Milton's 
Defensio jpro Populo Anglicano was for the political 
freedom of the English people, supposed at that time 
to number four and a half millions. It was writ- 
ten after the " bawble " of royalty had been removed, 
and in the confidence that the good cause was tri- 
umphantly established, beneath the protecting genius 
of Cromwell. Channing's Defensio pro Populo Afri- 
cano was for the personal freedom of three million 
fellow-men in abject bondage, none of whom knew 
that his eloquent pen was pleading their cause. The 



THE AETIST, THE PHILANTHKOPIST. 293 

efforts of Milton produced his blindness ; those of 
Channing exposed him to obloquy and calumny. How 
justly might the Philanthropist have borrowed the 
exalted words of the Sonnet to Cyiiac Skinner ! — 

" What supports me, dost thou ask ? 
The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied 
In liberty's defence, my noble task, 
Of' which all Europe rings from side to side." 

The same spirit of justice and humanity animating 
him in defence of liberty inspired his exertions for 
the abolition of the barbarous custom or institution 
of War. When I call war an institution, I mean inter- 
national war, sanctioned, explained, and defined by the 
Law of Nations, as a mode of determining questions 
of right. I mean war, the arbiter and umpire, the 
Ordeal by Battle, deliberately continued in an age of 
civilization, as the means of justice between nations. 
Slavery is an institution sustained by municipal law. 
War is an institution sustained by the Law of Nations. 
Both are relics of the early ages, and are rooted in 
violence and ^vrong. 

The principle, already considered, that nations and 
individuals are bound by one and the same rule, applies 
here with unmistakable force. The Trial by Battle, to 
which individuals once appealed for justice, is branded 
by our civilization as monstrous and impious ; nor can 
we recognize honor in the successful combatant. Chris- 
tianity turns from these scenes, as abhorrent to her best 
injunctions. And is it right in nations to prolong a 
usage, monstrous and impious in individuals ? There 
can be but one answer. 

This definition leaves undisturbed that question of 
Christian ethics, whether the right of self-defence is 



294 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

consistent with the example and teaching of Christ. 
Channing thought it was. It is sufficient that war, 
when regarded as a judicial combat, sanctioned by the 
Law of Nations as an institution to determine justice, 
raises no such question, involves no such right. When, 
in our age, two nations, parties to existing interna- 
tional law, after mutual preparations, continued perhaps 
through years, appeal to war and invoke the God of 
Battles, they voluntarily adopt this unchristian umpir- 
age ; nor can either side plead that overruling necessity 
on wliich alone the right of self-defence is founded. 
They are governed at every step by the Laws of War. 
But self-defence is independent of law; it knows no 
law, but springs from sudden tempestuous urgency, 
which brooks neither circumscription nor delay. De- 
fine it, give it laws, circumscribe it by a code, invest 
it with form, refine it by punctilio, and it becomes 
the Duel. And modern war, with its definitions, laws, 
limitations, forms, and refinements, is the BuM of 
Nations. 

These nations are communities of Christian brothers. 
War is, therefore, a duel between brothers ; and here its 
impiety finds apt illustration in the past. Far away 
in the early period of time, where uncertain hues of 
Poetry blend with the clearer light of History, our eyes 
discern the fatal contest between those two brothers, 
Eteocles and Polynices. No scene stirs deeper aver- 
sion ; we do not inquire which was right. The soul 
cries out, in bitterness and sorrow. Both were wrong, 
and refuses to discriminate between them. A just 
and enlightened opinion, contemplating the feuds and 
wars of mankind, will condemn both sides as wrong, 
pronouncing all war fratricidal, and every battle-field 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST, 295 

a scene from which to avert the countenance, as from 
that dismal duel beneath the walls of Grecian Thebes. 

To hasten this judgment our Philanthropist labored. 
"Follow my white plume," said the chivalrous mon- 
arch of France. " Follow the Eight," more resplendent 
than plume or oriflamme, was the watchword of Chan- 
ning. With a soul kindling intensely at every story of 
magnanimous virtue, at every deed of self-sacrifice in a 
righteous cause, his clear Christian judgment saw the 
mockery of what is called military glory, whether in 
ancient thunderbolts of war or in the career of mod- 
ern conquest. He saw that the fairest flowers can- 
not bloom in soil moistened by human blood, — that to 
overcome evil by bullets and bayonets is less great and 
glorious than to overcome it by good, — that the cour- 
age of the camp is inferior to this Christian fortitude 
found in patience, resignation, and forgiveness of evil, 
as the spirit which scourged and crucified the Saviour 
was less divine than that which murmured, " Father, 
forgive them, for they know not what they do." 

With fearless pen he arraigned that giant criminal, 
Napoleon Bonaparte. Witnesses flocked from all his 
scenes of blood ; and the pyramids of Egypt, the coast 
of Palestine, the plains of Italy, the snows of Eussia, 
the fields of Austria, Prussia, Spain, all Europe, sent 
forth uncofiined hosts to bear testimony against the glory 
of their chief. Never before, in the name of humanity 
and freedom, was grand offender arraigned by such a 
voice. The sentence of degradation which Channing 
has passed, confirmed by coming generations, will darken 
the name of the warrior more than any defeat of his 
arms or compelled abdication of his power. 

These causes Channing upheld and commended with 



296 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

admirable eloquence, both of tongue and pen. Though 
abounding in beauty of thought and expression, he will 
be judged less by single passages, sentences, or phrases, 
than by the continuous and harmonious treatment of his 
subject. And yet everywhere the same spirit is dis- 
cerned. What he said was an eftluence rather than 
a composition. His style was not formal or archi- 
tectural in shape or proportion, but natural and flow- 
ing. Others seem to construct, to build; he bears us 
forward on an unbroken stream. If we seek a paral- 
lel for him as writer, we must turn our backs upon 
England, and repair to France. Meditating on the 
glowing thought of Pascal, the persuasive sweetness of 
Fenelon, the constant and comprehensive benevolence 
of the Abbe Saint Pierre, we may be reminded of Chan- 
ning. 

With few of the physical attributes belonging to 
the orator, he was an orator of surpassing grace. His 
soul tabernacled in a body that was little more than 
a filament of clay. He was small in stature ; but when 
he spoke, his person seemed to dilate with the majesty 
of his thoughts, — as the Hercides of Lysippus, a marvel 
of ancient art, though not more than a foot in height, 
revived in the mind the superhuman strength which 
overcame the Nemean lion : — 

"Deus ille, Deus; seseque videndum 
Indulsit, Lysippe, tibi, parvusque videri 
Sentirique ingens.'''' 1 

His voice was soft and musical, not loud or full in 
tone ; and yet, like conscience, it made itself heard in 
the inmost chambers of the soul. His eloquence was 
gentleness and persuasion, reasoning for religion, hu- 

* Statius, Silv., Lib. IV. Cann. 6. 



THE AETIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 297 

« 

manity, and justice. He did not thunder or lighten. 
The rude elemental forces furnish no proper image of 
his power. Like sunsliine, his words descended upon 
the souls of his hearers, and under their genial influ- 
ence the hard in heart were softened, while the closely 
hugged mantle of prejudice and error dropped to the 
earth. 

His eloquence had not the character and fashion of 
forensic effort or parliamentary debate. It mounted 
above these, into an atmosphere unattempted by the 
applauded orators of the world. Wlienever he spoke 
or wrote, it was with loftiest purpose, as his works at- 
test, — not for public display, not to advance himself, 
not on any question of pecuniary interest, not under 
any w^orldly temptation, but to promote the love of God 
and man. Here are untried founts of truest inspiration. 
Eloquence has been called action; but it is something 
more. It is that divine and ceaseless energy which saves 
and helps mankind. It cannot assume its highest form 
in personal pursuit of dishonest guardians, or selfish 
contention for a crown, — not in defence of a murderer, 
or invective hurled at a conspirator. I would not over- 
step the proper modesty of this discussion, nor would I 
disparage the genius of the great masters ; but all must 
join in admitting that no rhetorical skill or oratorical 
power can elevate these lower, earthly things to the nat- 
ural heights on wliich Channing stood, when he pleaded 
for Freedom and Peace. 

Such was our Philanthropist. Advancing in life, his 
enthusiasm seemed to brighten, his soul put forth fresh 
blossoms of hope, his mind opened to new truths. Age 
brings experience ; but, except in a few constitutions of 
rare felicity, it renders the mind indifferent to what is 



298 THE SCHOLAK, THE JURIST, 

new, particularly in moral truth. His last months were 
passed amid the heights of Berkshire, with a people to 
whom may be applied what Bentivoglio said of Switzer- 
land, — " Their mountains become them, and they be- 
come their mountains." To them, on the 1st of August, 
1842, he volunteered an Anniversary Address, in com- 
memoration of that great English victory, — the peace- 
ful emancipation of eight hundred thousand slaves. 
These were the last public words from his lips. His 
final benediction descended on the slave. His spirit, 
taking flight, seemed to say, — nay, still says, Bemem- 
ier the Slave. 



Thus have I attempted, humbly and affectionately, to 
bring before you the images of our departed brothers, 
while I dwelt on the great causes in which their lives 
were revealed. Servants of Knowledge, Justice, Beauty, 
Love, they have ascended to the great Source of Knowl- 
edge, Justice, Beauty, Love. Though dead, they yet 
speak, informing the understanding, strengthening the 
sense of justice, refining the tastes, enlarging the sym- 
pathies. The body dies ; but the page of the Scholar, 
the interpretation of the Jurist, the creation of the Art- 
ist, the beneficence of the Philanthropist cannot die. 

I have dwelt upon their lives and characters, less in 
grief for what we have lost than in gratitude for what 
we possessed so long, and still retain, in their precious 
example. Proudly recollecting her departed children, 
Alma Mater may well exclaim, in those touching 
words of parental grief, that she would not give her 
dead sons for any living sons in Christendom. Picker- 
ing, Story, Allston, Channing ! A grand Quaternion ! 



THE AETIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 299 

Each, in liis peculiar sphere, was foremost in his coun- 
try. Each might have said, what the modesty of De- 
mosthenes did not forbid him to boast, that, through 
him, Iiis country had been crowned abroad. Their 
labors were wide as Scholarship, Jurisprudence, Art, 
Humanity, and have found acceptance wherever these 
are recognized. 

Their lives, which overflow with instruction, teach 
one persuasive lesson to all alike of every calling and 
pursuit, — not to live for ourselves alone. They lived for 
Knowledge, Justice, Beauty, Love. Turning from the 
strifes of the world, the allurements of office, and the 
rage for gain, they consecrated themselves to the pur- 
suit of excellence, and each, in his own sphere, to be- 
neficent labor. They were aU philanthropists ; for the 
labors of all were directed to the weKare and happiness 
of man. 

In their presence, how truly do we feel the insignifi- 
cance of office and wealth, which men so hotly pursue ! 
Wliat is office ? and what is wealth ? Expressions 
and representatives of what is present and fleeting 
only, investing the possessor with a brief and local re- 
gard. Let this not be exaggerated ; it must not be con- 
founded with the serene fame which is the reflection of 
generous labors in great causes. The street lights, within 
the circle of their nightly glimmer, seem to outshine the 
distant stars, observed of men in all lands and times ; 
but gas-lamps are not to be mistaken for celestial lumi- 
naries. They who live for wealth, and the things of 
this world, follow shadows, neglecting realities eter- 
nal on earth and in heaven. After the perturbations 
of life, all its accumulated possessions must be resigned, 
except those only which have been devoted to God and 



300 THE SCHOLAE, THE JUEIST, 

mankind. What we do for ourselves perishes with this 
mortal dust ; what we do for others lives coeval with 
the benefaction. Worms may destroy the body, but 
they will not consume such a fame. 

Struggles of the selfish crowd, clamors of a false pa- 
triotism, suggestions of a sordid ambition, cannot obscure 
that commanding duty which enjoins perpetual labor 
for the welfare of the whole human family, with- 
out distinction of country, color, or race. In this 
work. Knowledge, Jurisprudence, Art, Humanity, all 
are blessed ministers. More puissant than the sword, 
they will lead mankind from the bondage of error into 
that service which alone is freedom : — 

" HsB tibi ermit artes, pacjsjwe imponere morem." l 

The brothers we commemorate join in summons 
to this gladsome obedience. Their examples have 
voice. Go forth into the many mansions of the house 
of life. Scholar ! store them with learning. Jurist ! 
strengthen them with justice. Artist ! adorn them 
with beauty. Philanthropist ! fill them with love. Be 
servants of truth, each in his vocation, — sincere, pure, 
earnest, enthusiastic. A virtuous enthusiasm is self- 
forgetful and noble. It is the grand inspiration yet 
vouchsafed to man. Like Pickering, blend humihty 
with learning. Like Story, ascend above the present, 
in place and time. Like Allston, regard fame only as 
the eternal shadow of excellence. Like Charming, plead 
for the good of man. Cultivate alike the wisdom of 
experience and the wisdom of hope. Mindful of the 

1 jEneid, VI. 852. — Dryden, translating this passage, gives distinctness 
to a duty beyond the language of Virgil : — 

" The fettered slave to free, 
These are imperial arts, and wortliy thee. " 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHKOPIST. 301 

future, do not neglect the past ; awed by the majesty 
of antiquity, turn not with indifference from the new. 
True wisdom looks to the ages before, as well as behind. 
Like the Janus of the Capitol, one front regards the 
past, rich with experience, with memories, with price- 
less traditions of virtue ; the other is directed to the 
All Hail Hereafter, richer still with transcendent hopes 
and unfulfilled prophecies. 

We stand on the thi-eshold of a new age, which is 
preparing to recognize new influences. The ancient 
divinities of Violence and Wrong are retreating before 
the light of a better day. The sun is entering a new 
ecliptic, no longer deformed by those images of animal 
rage, Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Sagittarius, but beaming 
with the mild radiance of those heavenly signs, Paith, 
Hope, and Charity. 

" There 's a fount about to stream, 
There 's a light about to beam, 
There 's a warmth about to glow, 
Th-ere 's a flower about to blow, 
There 's a midnight blackness changing 

Into gray : 
Men of thought, and men of action, 
Clear the way ! 

" Aid the dawning, tongue and pen ! 
Aid it, hopes of honest men ! 
Aid it, paper ! aid it, type ! 
Aid it, for the hour is ripe, 
And our earnest must not slacken 

Into play : 
Men of thought, and men of action. 
Clear the way! " 

The age of Chivalry is gone. An age of Humanity 
has come. The Horse, whose importance, more than hu- 
man, gave its name to that early period of gallantry and 
war, now yields the foremost place to Man. In serving 



302 THE SCHOLAE, THE JURIST, ETC. 

him, in studying his elevation, in helping his weKare, 
in doing him good, are fields of bloodless triumph, 
nobler far than any in which Bayard or Du Guesclin 
conquered. Here are spaces of labor, wide as the world, 
lofty as heaven. Let me say, then, in the benison once 
bestowed upon the youthful knight, — Scholar ! Jurist ! 
Artist ! Philanthropist ! hero of a Christian age, com- 
panion of a celestial knighthood, " Go forth, be brave, 
loyal, and successful ! " 

And may it be our of&ce to light a fresh beacon-fire 
on the venerable walls of Harvard, sacred to Truth, to 
Christ, and to the Church,^ — to Truth Immortal, to 
Christ the Comforter, to the Holy Church Universal. 
Let the flame pass from steeple to steeple, from hill to 
hill, from island to island, from continent to continent, 
till the lonR lineage of fires illumine all the nations 
of the earth, animating them to the holy contests of 
Knowledge, Justice, Beauty, Love! 

1 The legend on the early seal of Harvard University was Veritas. The 
present legend is Chrislo et Ecclesia. 



ANTISLAVERY DUTIES OF THE WHIG 
PARTY. 

Speech at the Whig State Convention of Massachusetts, in 
Faneuil Hall, Boston, September 23, 1846. 



The Convention was organized by the appointment of Hon. Charles 
Hudson, of Westminster, President, — Nathan Appleton, of Boston, 
Stephen C. Phillips, of Salem, Amos Abbott, of Andover, Samuel Hoar, 
of Concord, Thomas Kinnicutt, of Worcester, Isaac Iving, of Palmer, 

E. R. Coit, of Pittsfield, A. Richards, of Dedham, Artemas Hale, of 
Bridgewater, and Aaron Mitchell, of Nantucket, Vice-Presidents, — and 

F. W. Lincoln, Jr., of Boston, William S. Robinson, of Lowell, George 
Marston, of Barnstable, and E. G. Bowdoin, of South Hadley, Secre- 
taries. 

After the appointment of a committee to report resolutions, and its 
withdrawal for this purpose, there was a call for Mr. Sumner, who came 
forward and spoke. This incident was described by the Daily Advertiser, 
in its account of the proceedings, as follows. 

" After this committee had gone out, Charles Sumner, Esq., of this 
city, in response to a general call, took the stand and made a very elo- 
quent speech, which was received with sympathy and repeated bursts 

of applause An allusion which he made to Daniel Webster in 

terms of the highest admiration, and an appeal to him to add to his 
title of Defender of the Constitution that of Defender of Freedom [RuJiian- 
ity], was received with great applause." 

Mr. Winthrop, at the call of the Convention, spoke immediately after 
Mr. Sumner. 

As Mr. Sumner stepped from the platform, Mr. Appleton, one of the 
Vice-Presidents, said to him, " A good speech for Virginia, but out of 
place here " ; to which Mr. Sumner replied, " If good for Virginia, it is 
good for Boston, as we have our responsibilities for Slavery." This inci- 
dent is mentioned as opening briefly the practical issue made by many 
with regard to the discussion of Slavery at the North. 



304 ANTISLAVERY DUTIES 



Mr. President and Fellow-Citizens, Whigs of Massa- 
chusetts : — 

GRATEFUL for the honor done me in this early call 
to address the Convention, I shall endeavor to speak 
with sincerity and frankness on the duties of the Whig 
party. It is of Duties that I shall speak. 

On the first notice that our meeting was to be in Bos- 
ton, many were disposed to regret that the country 
was not selected instead, believing that the opinions of 
the country, free as its bracing air, more than those of 
Boston, were in harmony with the tone becommg us at 
the present crisis. In the country is the spirit of freedom, 
in the city the spirit of commerce ; and though these two 
spirits may at times act in admirable conjunction and 
with irresistible strength, yet it sometimes occurs that the 
generous and unselfish impulses of the one are checked 
and controlled by the careful calculations of the other. 
Even Right and Liberty are, in some minds, of less sig- 
nificance than dividends and dollars. 

But I am happy that the Convention is convoked in 
Faneuil Hall, — a place vocal with inspiring accents ; 
and though on other occasions words have been uttered 
here which the lover of morals, of freedom, and humanity 
must regret, these walls, faithful only to Freedom, refuse 
to echo them. Whigs of Massachusetts, in Faneuil Hall 
assembled, must be true to this early scene of patriot 
struggles ; they must be true to their own name, which 
has descended from the brave men who took part in those 
struggles. 

We are a Convention of Whigs. And who are the 
Whigs ? Some may say they are supporters of the Tariff; 
others, that they are advocates of Internal Improvements, 



OF THE WHIG PARTY. 305 

of measures to restrict the Veto Power, or it may be 
of a Bank. All these are now, or have been, prominent 
articles of the party. But tliis enumeration does not do 
justice to the Whig character. 

The Wliigs, as their name imports, are, or ought to be, 
the party of Freedom. They seek, or should seek, on all 
occasions, to carry out fully and practically the principles 
of our institutions. Those principles which our fathers 
declared, and sealed with their blood, their Whig children 
should seek to manifest in acts. The Whigs, therefore, 
reverence the Declaration of Independence, as embody- 
ing the vital truths of Freedom, especially that great 
truth, " that all men are created equal." They rever- 
ence the Constitution of the United States, and seek 
to guard it against infractions, believing that under the 
Constitution Freedom, can be best preserved. They rev- 
erence the Union, belie^dng that the peace, happiness, 
and welfare of all depend upon this blessed bond. They 
reverence the public faith, and require that it shall be 
punctiliously kept in all laws, charters, and obligations. 
They reverence the principles of morahty, truth, justice, 
right. They seek to advance their country rather than 
individuals, and to promote the welfare of the people 
rather than of leaders. A member of such an association, 
founded on the highest moral sentiments, recognizing 
conscience and benevolence as animating ideas, is not 
open to the accusation that he " to party gave up what 
was meant for mankind," — since all the interests of the 
party must be coincident and commensurate with the 
manifold interests of humanity. 

Such is, as I trust, the Whig party of Massachusetts. 
It refuses to identify itself exclusively with those meas- 
ures of transient policy which, like the Bank, may be- 
VOL. I. —20 



306 ANTISLAVERY DUTIES 

come " obsolete ideas," but connects itself with ever- 
lastino- principles which can never fade or decay. 
Doing this, it does not neglect other things, as the Tariif, 
or Internal Improvements ; but it treats them as subor- 
dinate. Far less does it show indifference to the Con- 
stitution or the Union ; for it seeks to render these 
guardians and representatives of the principles to which 
we are attached. 

The Whigs have been caUed by you, Mr. President, 
conservatives. In a just sense, they should be conserva- 
tives, — not of forms only, but of substance, — not of 
the letter only, but of the living spirit. The Whigs 
should be conservators of the ancestral spirit, conser- 
vators of the animating ideas in which our institutions 
were born. They should profess that truest and highest 
conservatism which watches, guards, and preserves the 
great principles of Truth, Eight, Freedom, and Human- 
ity. Such a conservatism is not narrow and exclusive, 
but broad and expansive. It is not trivial and bigoted, 
but manly and generous. It is the conservatism of '76. 

Let me say, then, that the Whigs of Massachusetts are 
— I hope it is not my wish only that is father to the 
thought — the party which seeks the establishment of 
Truth, Freedom, Eight, and Humanity, under the Con- 
stitution of the United States, and by the Union of the 
States. They are Unionists, Constitutionalists, Friends 
of the Eight. 

The question here arises, How shall this party, in- 
spired by these principles, now act ? The answer is easy. 
In strict accordance with their principles. It must utter 
them with distinctness, and act upon them with energy. 

The party will naturally express opposition to the 
present Administration for its treacherous course on 



OF THE WHIG PARTY. 307 

the tariff, and for its interference by veto with inter- 
nal improvements ; but it will be more alive to evils 
of greater magnitude, — the unjust and unchristian war 
with Mexico, which is not less absurd than wicked, and, 
beyond this, the institution of Slavery, 

The time, I beheve, has gone by, when the question 
is asked, WJiat has the North to do with Slavery ? It 
might almost be answered, that, politically, it has lit- 
tle to do with anything else, — so are all the acts of our 
Government connected, directly or indirectly, witli this 
institution. Slavery is everywhere. Appealing to the 
Constitution, it enters the Halls of Congress, in the dis- 
proportionate representation of the Slave States. It 
holds its disgusting mart at Washington, in the shadow 
of the Capitol, under the legislative jurisdiction of the 
Nation, — of the North as well as the South. It sends 
its miserable victims over the high seas, from the ports 
of Virginia to the ports of Louisiana, beneath the pro- 
tecting flag of the Eepublic. It presumes to follow into 
the Free States those fugitives who, filled with the in- 
spiration of Freedom, seek our altars for safety ; nay, 
more, with profane hands it seizes those who have 
never known the name of slave, freemen of the North, 
and dooms them to irremediable bondage. It insults 
and expels from its jurisdiction honored representatives 
of Massachusetts, seeking to secure for her colored citi- 
zens the peaceful safeguard of the Union. It assumes 
at pleasure to build up new slaveholding States, striv- 
ing perpetually to widen its area, while professing to 
extend the area of Freedom. It has brought upon the 
country war with Mexico, with its enormous expen- 
ditures and more enormous guilt. By the spirit of 
union among its supporters, it controls the affairs of 



308 ANTISLAVERY DUTIES 

Government, — interferes with the cherished interests 
of the North, enforcing and then refusing protection to 
her manufactures, — makes and unmakes Presidents, — 
usurps to itseK the larger portion of all offices of honor 
and profit, both in the army and navy, and also in the 
civil department, — and stamps upon oiu- whole country 
the character, before the world, of that monstrous anom- 
aly and mockery, a slaveJwlding republic, with the liv- 
ing truths of Freedom on its lips and the dark mark of 
Slavery on its brow. 

In opposition to Slavery, Massachusetts has already, 
to a certain extent, done what becomes her character as 
a free Commonwealth. By successive resolutions of her 
Legislature, she has called for the abolition of slavery 
in the District of Columbia, and for the abolition of the 
slave-trade between the States ; and she has also pro- 
posed an amendment of the Constitution, putting the 
South upon an equality with the North in Congressional 
representation. More than this, her judiciary, always 
pure, fearless, and upright, has inflicted upon Slavery 
the brand of reprobation. I but recall a familiar fact, 
when I refer to the opinion of the Supreme Court of 
Massachusetts, where it is expressly declared that " sla- 
very is contrary to natural right, to the principles of 
justice, humanity, and sound policy." ^ This is the law 
of Massachusetts. 

And shall tliis Commonwealth continue in any way 
to sustain an institution which its laws declare to be 
contrary to natural right, justice, humanity, and sound 
policy ? Shall Whigs support what is contrary to the 
fundamental principles of the party ? Here the con- 
sciences of good men respond to the judgment of the 

1 18 Pick. Rep. 215. 



OF THE WHIG PAETY. 309 

Court. If it be wrong to hold a single slave, it must be 
wrong to hold many. If it be wrong for an individual 
to hold a slave, it must be wrong for a State. If it 
be wrong for a State in its individual capacity, it must 
be wrong also in association with other States. Massa- 
chusetts does not allow any of her citizens within her 
borders to hold slaves. Let her be consistent, and call 
for the abolition of slavery wherever she is any way 
responsible for it, not only where she is a party to it, 
but wherever it may be reached by her influence, — that 
is, everywhere beneath the Constitution and laws of the 
National Government. " If any practices exist," said Mr. 
Webster, in one of those earlier efforts which commended 
him to our admiration, his Discourse at Plymouth in 1820, 
— " if any practices exist contrary to the principles of 
justice and humanity, within the reach of our laws or 
our influence, we are, inexciisabU, if we do not exert our- 
selves to restrain and abolish themy ^ This is correct, 
worthy of its author, and of Massachusetts. It points 
directly to Massachusetts as inexcusable for not doing 
her best to restrain and abolish slavery everywhere 
within the reach of her laws or her influence. 

Certainly, to labor in this cause is far higher and 
nobler than to strive for repeal of the Tariff, once the 
tocsin to rally the Whigs. Eepeal of Slavery under 
THE Constitution and Laws of the National Gov- 
ernment is a watchword more Christian and more po- 
tent, because it embodies a higher sentiment and a more 
commanding duty. 

The time has passed when this can be opposed on 
constitutional grounds. It will not be questioned by 
any competent authority, that Congress may, by express 

1 Works, Vol. I. p. 45. 



310 ANTISLAVEEY DUTIES 

legislation, aboHsh slavery : first, in the District of Co- 
lumbia ; secondly, in the Territories, if there should be 
any ; thirdly, that it may abolish the slave-trade on the 
high seas between the States ; fourthly, that it may re- 
fuse to admit new States with a constitution sanction- 
ing slavery. Nor can it be questioned that the people 
of the United States may, in the manner pointed out by 
the Constitution, proceed to its amendment. It is, then, 
by constitutional legislation, and even by amendment 
of the Constitution, that slavery may be reached. 

Here the question arises. Is there any compromise in 
the Constitution of such a character as to prevent ac- 
tion ? This word is invoked by many honest minds as 
the excuse for not joining in this cause. Let me meet 
this question frankly and fairly. The Constitution, it 
is said, was the result of compromise between the Free 
States and the Slave States, which good faith will not 
allow us to break. To this it may be replied, that the 
Slave States, by their many violations of the Constitu- 
tion, have already overturned all the original compro- 
mises, if any there were of perpetual character. But 
I do not content myself with this answer. I wish to 
say, distinctly, that there is no compromise on slavery 
not to be reached legally and constitutionally, which is 
the only way in which I propose to reach it. Wher- 
ever powers and jurisdiction are secured to Congress, 
they may unquestionably be exercised in conformity 
with the Constitution ; even in matters beyond existing 
powers and jurisdiction there is a constitutional method 
of action. The Constitution contains an article point- 
ing out how, at any time, amendments may be made. 
This is an important element, giving to the Constitution 
a progressive character, and allowing it to be moulded 



OF THE WHIG PAETY. 311 

according to new exigencies and conditions of feeling. 
The wise framers of this instrument did not treat the 
country as a Chinese foot, — never to grow after its in- 
fancy, — but anticipated the changes incident to its 
advance. "Provided, that no amendment which may 
be made prior to the year one thousand eight hundred 
and eight shall in any manner affect the first and fourth 
clauses in the ninth section of the first article, and tliat 
no State, without its consent, shall be deprived of its 
equal suffrage in the Senate." These are the words of 
the Constitution. They expressly designate what shall 
be sacred from amendment, — what compromise shall 
be perpetual, — and so doing, according to a familiar 
rule of law and of logic, virtually declare that the re- 
mainder of the Constitution may be amended. Already, 
since its adoption, twelve amendments have been made, 
and every year produces new projects. There has been 
a pressure on the floor of Congress to abrogate the veto, 
and also to limit the tenure of the Presidential office. 
Let it be distinctly understood, then, — and this is my 
answer to the pretension of binding compromise, — that, 
in conferring upon Congress certain specified powers and 
jurisdiction, and also in providing for the amendment 
of the Constitution, its framers expressly established 
the means for setting aside what are vaguely called 
compromises of the Constitution. They openly de- 
clare, " Legislate as you please, in conformity with the 
Constitution ; and even make amendments rendered 
proper by change of opinion or circumstances, fol- 
lowing always the manner prescribed." 

Nor can we dishonor the revered authors of the 
Constitution by supposing that they set their hands to 
it, beUeviug that under it slavery was to be perpetual. 



312 ANTISLAVEKY DUTIES 

— that the Eepiiblic, which they had reared to its 
giant stature, snatched from heaven the sacred fire of 
Freedom, only to be bound, like another Prometheus, in 
adamantine chains of Fate, while Slavery, like another 
vulture, preyed upon its vitals. Let Franklin speak for 
them. He was President of the earliest Abolition 
Society in the United States, and in 1790, only two 
years after the adoption of the Constitution, addressed 
a petition to Congress, calling upon them to " step to 
the very verge of the power vested in them for discour- 
aging every species of traffic in the persons of our fel- 
low-men." ^ Let Jefferson speak for them. His desire 
for the abohtion of slavery was often expressed with 
philanthropic warmth and emphasis, and is too famLliar 
to be quoted. Let Washington speak for them. " It is 
among my first wishes," he said, in a letter to John F. 
Mercer, " to see some plan adopted by which slavery in 
this country ma3/ 6g abolished hy lawJ'^ And in his will, 
penned with his own hand, during the last year of his 
life, he bore his testimony again, by providing for the 
emancipation of all liis slaves. It is thus that Washing- 
ton speaks, not only by words, but by actions more sig- 
nificant : " Give freedom to your slaves." The Father of 
his Country requires, as a token of the filial piety which 
all profess, that his example shall be followed. I am 
not insensible to the many glories of his character ; but 
I cannot contemplate this act without a fresh feehng of 
admiration and gratitude. The martial scene depicted on 
that votive canvas may fade from the memory of men ; 
but this act of justice and benevolence can never perish. 

" Ergo postque magisque viri nunc gloria claret." 

1 Annals of Congress, First Congress, Second Session, col. 1198. 

2 Sparks's Writings of Washington, Vol. IX. p. 159, note. 



OF THE WHIG PARTY. 313 

I assume, then, that it is the duty of Wliigs profess- 
ing the principles of the fathers to express themselves 
openly, distinctly, and solemnly against slavery, — not 
only against its further extension, hut against its longer 
continuance under the Constitution and Laws of the Union. 
But while it is their duty to enter upon this holy war- 
fare, it sliould be their aim to temper it with moderation, 
with gentleness, with tenderness, towards slave-owners. 
These should be won, if possible, rather than driven, to 
the duties of emancipation. But emancipation should 
always be presented as the cardinal object of our national 
policy. 

It is for the Whigs of Massachusetts now to say 
whether the republican edifice shall indeed be one 
where all the Christian virtues will be fellow-workers 
with them. The resolutions which they adopt, the 
platform of principles which they establish, must be the 
imperishable foundation of a true glory. 

But it will not be sufficient to pass resolutions oppos- 
ing slavery ; we must choose men who will devote them- 
selves earnestly, heartily, to the work, — who will enter 
upon it with awakened conscience, and with that valiant 
faith before which all obstacles disappear, — who will 
be ever loyal to Truth, Freedom, Eight, Humanity, — 
who will not look for rules of conduct down to earth, in 
the mire of expediency, but with heaven-directed coun- 
tenance seek those great " primal duties " which " shine 
aloft like stars," to illumine alike the path of individu- 
als and of nations. They must be true to the princi- 
ples of Massachusetts. They must not be Northern 
men with Southern principles, nor Northern men under 
Southern influences. They must be courageous and 
wiLing on all occasions to stand alone, provided Eight 



314 ANTISLAVERY DUTIES 

be with tliem. " Were there as many devils in "Worms as 
there are tiles upon the roofs," said Martin Luther, " yet 
would I enter." Such a spirit is needed now by the 
advocates of Eight. They must not be ashamed of the 
name which belongs to Franklin, Jefferson, and Wash- 
ington, — expressing the idea which should be theirs, — 
Abolitionist. They must be thorough, uncompromising 
advocates of the repeal of slavery, — of its abolition 
under the laws and Constitution of the United States. 
They must be Eepealers, Abolitionists. 

There are a few such now in Congress. Massachu- 
setts has a venerable Eepresentative,^ whose aged bo- 
som still glows with inextinguishable fires, like the 
central heats of the monarch mountain of the Andes 
beneath its canopy of snow. To this cause he dedicates 
the closing energies of a long and illustrious life. 
Would that all might join liim ! 

There is a Senator of Massachusetts we had hoped 
to welcome here to-day, whose position is of command- 
ing influence. Let me address him with the respectful 
frankness of a constituent and friend. Already, Sir, 
by various labors, you have acquired an honorable place 
in the history of our coimtry. By the vigor, argu- 
mentation, and eloquence with which you upheld the 
Union, and that interpretation of the Constitution which 
makes us a Nation, you have justly earned the title of 
Defender of the Constitution. By masterly and success- 
ful negotiation, and by efforts to compose the strife con- 
cerning Oregon, you have earned another title, — De- 
fender of Peace. Pardon me, if I add, that there are yet 
other duties claiming your care, whose performance will 
be the crown of a long life in the public service. Do 

1 John Quincy Adams. 



OF THE WHIG PAETY. 315 

not forget them. Dedicate, Sir, the years happily in 
store for you, with all that precious experience which 
is yours, to grand endeavor, in the name of Human 
Freedom, for the overthrow of that terrible evil which 
now afflicts our country. In this cause are inspirations 
to eloquence higher than any you have yet confessed. 

" To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong." 
Do not shrink from the task. With the marvellous 
powers that are yours, under the auspicious influences 
of an awakened public sentiment, and imder God, who 
smiles always upon conscientious labor for the welfare 
of man, we may hope for beneficent results. Assume, 
then, these unperformed duties. The aged shall bear 
witness to you ; the young shall kindle with rapture, 
as they repeat the name of Webster ; the large com- 
pany of the ransomed shall teach their children and 
their children's children, to the latest generation, to 
call you blessed ; and you shall have yet another title, 
never to be forgotten on earth or in heaven, — Defender 
of Humanity, — by the side of which that earlier title 
will fade into insignificance, as the Constitution, which 
is the work of mortal hands, dwindles by the side of 
Man, created in the image of God.-^ 

To my mind it is clear that the time has arrived 
when the Whigs of Massachusetts, the party of Freedom, 
owe it to their declared principles, to their character 
before the world, and to conscience, that they should 
place themselves firmly on this honest ground. They 
need not fear to stand alone. They need not fear sep- 
aration from brethren with whom they have acted in 
concert. Better be separated even from them than from 

1 How Mr. Webster regarded this appeal will be seen in a letter from him 
at the end of the Speech. 



316 ANTISLAVERY DUTIES OF THE WHIG PAETY. 

the Eight. Massachusetts can stand alone, if need be. 
The Whigs of Massachusetts can stand alone. Their 
motto should not be, " Our party, hovjsoever hoimded" but 
" Our party, bounded always by the Eight." They must 
recognize the dominion of Eight, or there will be none 
who will recognize the dominion of the party. Let us, 
then, in Faneuil Hall, beneath the images of our fathers, 
vow perpetual allegiance to the Eight, and perpetual hos- 
tility to Slavery. Ours is a noble cause, nobler even 
than that of our fathers, inasmuch as it is more exalted 
to struggle for the freedom of others than for our own. 
The love of Eight, which is the animating impulse of 
our movement, is higher even than the love of Freedom. 
But Eight, Freedom, and Humanity all concur in de- 
manding the Abolition of Slavery. 



LETTER OF MR. WEBSTER TO MR. SUMNER. 

Marshfield, October 5, 1846. 

Mt dear Sir, — I had the pleasure to receive yours of September 
25th, and thank you for the kind and friendly sentiments which you 
express. These sentiments are reciprocal. I have ever cherished 
high respect for your character and talents, and seen with pleasure the 
promise of your future and greater eminence and usefulness. 

In political affairs we happen to entertain, at the present moment, a 
difference of opinion respecting the relative importance of some of the 
political questions of the time, and take a different view of the line of 
duty most fit to be pursued in endeavors to obtain all the good which 
can be obtained in connection with certain important subjects. These 
differences I much regret, but shall not allow them to interfere with 
personal regard, or my continued good wishes for your prosperity and 
happiness. 

Yours truly, 

DANIEL WEBSTER. 

Mr. Sumneb. 



WRONGFUL DECLARATION OF WAR 
AGAINST MEXICO. 

Letter to Hon. Robert C. Winthrop, Representative in Con- 
gress FROM Boston, October 25, 1846. 



SIR, — Newspapers, and some among your friends, 
complain of the manner in which many of your con- 
stituents are obliged to regard your vote on the Mexican 
War Bill. This vote is defended with an ardor such as 
even Truth, Freedom, and Right do not always find in 
their behalf, — while honest strictures are attributed to 
personal motives, sometimes to a selfish desire for the 
place you now hold, sometimes even to a wanton pur- 
pose to injure you. 

All this may be the natural and inevitable incident of 
political controversy ; but it must be regretted that per- 
sonal feelings and imputations of personal selfishness 
should intrude into the discussion of an important ques- 
tion of public duty, — I might say, of public morals. 
As a Whig, never failing to vote for you when I had an 
opportunity, I have felt it proper on other occasions to 
review your course, and to express the sorrow it caused. 
For this I am arraigned ; and the question of public morals 
is forgotten in personal feeling. This is my excuse for 
recalling attention now to the true issue. Conscious of 
no feeling to yourself personally, except of good-will, 
mingled with the recollection of pleasant social inter- 



318 WRONGFUL DECLAKATION OF WAR 

course, I refer with pain to your vote, and the apologies 
for it which have been set up. As one of your constit- 
uents, I single you, who are the representative of Boston, 
among the majority with whom you acted. I am not 
a pohtician; and you will pardon me, therefore, if I 
do not bring your conduct to any test of party or of 
numbers, to any sliding scale of expediency, to any 
standard except the rule of Eight and Wrong. 

To understand your course, it will be necessary to con- 
sider the action of Congress in declaring war against 
Mexico. I shall state the facts and conclusions briefly 
as possible. 

By virtue of an unconstitutional Act of Congress, in 
conjunction with the de facto government of Texas, the 
latter was annexed to the United States some time in 
the month of December, 1845. If we regard Texas as a 
province of Mexico, its boundaries must be sought in 
the geography of that republic. If we regard it as an 
independent State, they must be determined by the ex- 
tent of jurisdiction which the State was able to maintain. 
Now it seems clear that the river ITueces was always 
recognized by Mexico as the western boundary ; and it 
is undisputed that the State of Texas, since its Declara- 
tion of Independence, never exercised any jurisdiction 
beyond the Nueces. The Act of Annexation could not, 
therefore, transfer to the United States any title to the 
region between the Nueces and the Eio Grande. That 
region belonged to Mexico. Certainly it did not belong 
to the United States. 

In the month of January, 1846, the President of the 
United States directed the troops under General Taylor, 
called the Army of Occupation, to take possession of this 
region. Here was an act of aggression. As might have 



AGAINST MEXICO. 319 

been expected, it produced collision. The Mexicans, 
aroused in self-defence, sought to repel the invaders from 
their hearths and churches. Unexpected tidings reached 
Washington that the American forces were in danger. The 
President, in a message to Congress, called for succors. 

Here the question occurs, "What was the duty of Con- 
gress in this emergency ? Clearly to withhold all sanc- 
tion to unjust war, — to aggression upon a neighboring 
Republic, — to spoliation of fellow-men. Our troops were 
in danger only because upon foreign soil, forcibly displa- 
cing the jurisdiction and laws of the rightful government. 
In this condition of things, the way of safety, just and 
honorable, was by instant withdrawal from the Rio 
Grande to the Nueces. Congress should have spoken 
like Washington, when General Braddock, staggered by 
the peril of the moment, asked the youthful soldier, 
"What shaU I do, Colonel Washington?" "RE- 
TREAT, Sir ! RETREAT, Sir ! " was the earnest re- 
ply. The American forces should have been directed to 
retreat, — not from any human force, but from wrong- 
doing ; and this would have been a true victory. 

Alas ! this was not the mood of Congress. With wicked 
speed a bill was introduced, furnishing large and un- 
usual supplies of men and money. In any just sense, 
such provision was wasteful and unnecessary; but it 
would hardly be worthy of criticism, if confined in its 
object to the safety of the troops. When made, it must 
have been known that the fate of the troops was already 
decided, while the magnitude of the appropriations and 
the number of volunteers called for shov/ed that meas- 
ures were contemplated heyond self-d.cfence. Self-defence 
is easy and cheap. Aggression and injustice are diffi- 
cult and costly. 



320 WRONGFUL DECLARATION OF WAR 

The bill, in its earliest guise, provided monev and 
volunteers only. Suddenly an amendment is introduced, 
in the nature of a preamble, which gives to it another 
character, in harmony with the covert design of the large 
appropriation. This was adopted by a vote of 123 to 
67; and the bill then leaped forth, fully armed, as a 
measure of open and active hostility against Mexico. Aa 
such, it was passed by a vote of 174 to 14. This was on 
the 11th of May, 1846, destined to be among the dark 
days of our history. 

The amendment, in the nature of a preamble, and the 
important part of the bill, are as follows. 

" Whereas, by the act of the Repiihlic of Mexico, a state of 
war exists between that Government and the United States, — 

" Be it enacted, ifec, That, for the purpose of enabling the 
Government of the United States to prosecute said tear to a 
speedy and successful termination, the President be, and he 
is hereby, authorized to employ the militia, naval, and mili- 
tary forces of the United States, and to call for and accept 
the services of any number of volunteers, not exceeding fifty 
thousand, and that the smn of ten miUions of doUai-s be, 
and the same is hereby, appropriated for the purpose." 

This Act cannot be regarded merely as pro^"ision for 
the safety of General Taylor ; nor, indeed can this be 
considered the principal end proposed. It has other 
and ulterior objects, broader and more general, in view 
of which his safety, important as it might be, is of com- 
parative insignificance ; as it would be less mournful to 
lose a whole army than lend the solemn sanction of 
legislation to an rmjust war. 

This Act may be considered in six different aspects. 
It is six times wrong. Six difierent and unanswerable 
reasons should have urged its rejection. Six difierent 



AGAINST MEXICO. 321 

appeals should have touched every heart. I shall con- 
sider them separately. 

First. It is practically a Declaration of War 
against a sister Eepublic. By the Constitution of the 
United States, the power of declaring war is vested in 
Congress. Before this Act was passed, the Mexican War 
had no legislative sanction. Without this Act it could 
have no legislative sanction. By virtue of this Act the 
present war is waged. By virtue of this Act, an Ameri- 
can fleet, at immense cost of money, and without any 
gain of character, is now disturbing the conmierce of 
Mexico, and of the civilized world, ])y the blockade of 
Vera Cruz. By virtue of this Act, a distant expedition, 
with pilfering rapacity, has seized the defenceless prov-' 
ince of California. By virtue of this Act General Kearney 
has marched upon and captured Santa Fe. By virtue of 
this Act General Taylor has perpetrated the massacre 
at Monterey. By virtue of this Act desolation has been 
carried into a thousand homes, while the uncofftned 
hodies of sons, brothers, and husbands are consigned to 
premature graves. Lastly, it is hy virtue of this Act 
that the army of the United States has been converted 
into a legalized hand of brigands, marauders, and l)andit- 
ti, against the sanctions of civilization, justice, and hu- 
manity. American soldiers, who have fallen wretchedly 
in the streets of a foreign city, in tlie attack upon a 
Bishops palace, in contest with Cliristian fellow-men 
defending firesides and altars, may claim the epitaph of 
Simonides : " Go, tell the Laceda3monians that we lie here 
in obedience to their commands." It was in obedience 
to this Act of Congress that they laid down their lives. 

Secondly. This Act gives the sanction of Congress to 
an unjust war. War is barbarous and brutal ; but this 

VOL. I. — 21 



322 WKONGFUL DECLAEATION OF WAE 

is unjust. It grows out of aggression on our part, and 
is continued by aggression. Tlie statement of facts al- 
ready made is sufficient on this head. 

Thirdly. It declares that war exists " hy the act of 
the Bepublic of Mexico." This statement of brazen false- 
hood is inserted in the front of the Act. But it is now 
admitted by most, if not all, of the Whigs who unhap- 
pily voted for it, that it is not founded in fact. It is a 
national lie. 

" Whose tongue soe'er speaks false 
Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly lies." 

Fourthly. It provides for the prosecution of the war 
"to a speedy and stLccessful termination" — that is, for 
the speedy and successful prosecution of unjust war. 
Surely no rule can be better founded in morals than 
that we should seek the establishment of right. How, 
then, can we strive to hasten the triumph of wrong ? 

Fifthly. The war has its origin in a series of meas- 
ures to extend and perpetuate slavery. A wise and 
humane legislator should have discerned its source, and 
found fresh impulses to oppose it. 

Sixthly. The war is dishonorable and cowardly, as 
the attack of a rich, powerful, numerous, and united 
republic upon a weak and defenceless neighbor, dis- 
tracted by civil feud. Every consideration of honor, 
manliness, and Christian duty prompted gentleness and 
forbearance towards our unfortunate sister. 

Such, Sir, is the Act of Congress which received your 
sanction. Hardly does it yield in importance to any 
measure of our Government since the adoption of the 
National Constitution. It is the most wicked in our 
history, as it is one of the most wicked in all history. 
The recording Muse will drop a tear over its turpitude 



AGAINST MEXICO. 323 

and injustice, while it is gibbeted for the disgust and 
reprobation of mankind. 

Such, Sir, is the Act of Congress to which by your 
affirmative vote the people of Boston are made parties. 
Through you they are made to declare unjust and cow- 
ardly ivar, with superadded falsehood, in the cause of 
Slavery. Through you they are made partakers in the 
blockade of Vera Cruz, the seizure of California, the 
capture of Santa Fe, the bloodshed of Monterey. It 
were idle to suppose that the soldier or officer only is 
stained by this guilt. It reaches far back, and incarna- 
dines the Halls of Congress ; nay, more, thi^ough you, 
it reddens the hands of your constituents in Boston. 
Pardon this language. Strong as it may seem, it is 
weak to express the aggravation of this Act. Eather 
than lend your hand to this wickedness, you should have 
suffered the army of the United States to pass submis- 
sively through the Caudine Forks of Mexican power, — 
to perish, it might be, like the legions of Varus. Their 
bleached bones, in the distant valleys where they were 
waging unjust war, would not tell to posterity such a 
tale of ignominy as this lying Act of Congress. 

Passing from the character and consequences of your 
vote, I proceed to examine the grounds on which it is 
vindicated : for it is vindicated, by yourself, and by some 
of your friends ! 

The first vindication, apology, or extenuation appears 
in your speech on the Tariff, delivered in the House of 
Eepresentatives, June 25th. This was a deliberate 
effort, more than six weeks subsequent to the vote, and 
after all the disturbing influences of haste and surprise 
had passed. It may be considered, therefore, to express 
your own view of the ground on which it is to be sus- 



324 WRONGFUL DECLARATION OF WAR 

tained. And here, wliile you declare, with commendable 
frankness, that you " would by no means be understood 
to vindicate the justice" (why not say the truth ?) "of 
the declaration that war exists by the act of Mexico," 
yet you adhere to your vote, and animadvert upon the 
conduct of Mexico, in refusing to receive a minister 
instead of a commissioner, as if that were a vindication, 
apology, or extenuation ! Do we live in a Christian 
land ? Is this the nineteenth century ? Does an Amer- 
ican statesman venture any such suggestion in vindi- 
cation, apology, or extenuation of war ? On this point 
I join issue. By the Law of Nations as now enlight- 
ened by civilization, by the law of common sense, by 
the higher law of Christian duty, the fact presented 
in your vindication can form no ground of war. This 
attempt has given pain to many of your constituents 
hardly less than the original vote. It shows insensi- 
bility to the true character of war, and perverse adher- 
ence to the fatal act of wrong. It were possible to 
suppose a representative, not over-tenacious of moral 
purpose, shaken from his firm resolve by the ardors of 
a tyrannical majority ordaining wicked things ; but it 
is less easy to imagine a deliberate vindication of the 
hasty wrong, when the pressure of the majority is re- 
moved, and time affords opportunity for the recovery of 
that sense of Eight which was for a while overturned. 

Another apology, in which you and your defenders par- 
ticipate, is founded on the alleged duty of voting succors 
to our troops, and the impossibility of doing this with- 
out voting also for the bill, after it was converted into 
a Declaration of Falsehood and of War. It is said that 
patriotism required this vote. Is not that name pro- 
faned by this apology ? One of your honored predeces- 



AGAINST MEXICO. 325 

sors, Sir, a Eepresentative of Boston on the floor of Con- 
gress, Mr. Quincy, replied to such apology, when, on an 
occasion of trial not unlike that through which you have 
just passed, he gave utterance to these noble words : — 

" But it is said that this resolution must be taken as ' a 
test of Patriotism.' To this I have bvit one answer. If 
Patriotism ask me to assert a falsehood, I have no hesitation 
in telling Patriotism, ' I am not prepared to make that 
sacrifice.' The duty we owe to our country is, indeed, 
among the most solemn and impressive of all obligations ; 
yet, high as it may be, it is nevertheless subordinate to that 
which we owe to that Being with whose name and character 
truth is identified. In this respect I deem myself acting 
upon this resolution under a higher responsibility than 
either to this House or to this people."^ 

These words were worthy of Boston. May her Eep- 
resentatives never more fail to feel their inspiration ! 
" But," say the too swift defenders, " Mr. Winthrop voted 
against the falsehood once." Certainly no reason for 
not voting against it always. But the excuse is still 
pressed, " Succors to General Taylor should have been 
voted." The result shows that even these were unne- 
cessary. Before the passage of this disastrous Act of 
Congress, his troops had already achieved a success to 
which may be applied the words of Milton : — 

" That di^wnest victory 
At Chseronea,ya<rtZ to liberty.''^ 

But it would have been less wrong to leave him with- 
out succors, even if needful to his safety, than to vote 
falsehood and unjust war. In seeing that the republic 
received no detriment, you should not have regarded 

1 Speech on the Resohation concerning the Conduct of the British Minis-- 
ter, Dec. 28, 1809: Aunals of Congi-ess, Eleventh Congress, Second Session, 
col. 958. 



326 WEONGFUL DECLAKATION OF WAR 

the army only ; your highest care should have been that 
its good name, its moral and Christian character, received 
no detriment. You might have said, in the spirit of vir- 
tuous Andrew Fletcher, that " you would lose your life 
to serve your country, but would not do a base thing to 
save it." You might have adopted the words of Sheri- 
dan, in the British Parliament, during our Eevolution, 
that you " could not assent to a vote that seemed to 
imply a recognition or approbation of the war." ^ 

Another apology is, that the majority of the Whig par- 
ty joined with you, — or, as it has been expressed, that 
" Mr. Winthrop voted with all the rest of the weight 
of moral character in Congress, from the Eree States, 
belonging to the Whig party, not included in the Massa- 
chusetts delegation"; and suggestions are made in dis- 
paragement of the fourteen who remained unshaken in 
loyalty to Truth and Peace. In the question of Eight 
or Wrong, it is of little importance that a few fallible 
men, constituting what is called a majority, are all of 
one mind. Supple or insane majorities are found in 
every age to sanction injustice. It was a majority which 
passed the Stamp Act and Tea Tax, — which smiled up- 
on the persecution of GaHleo, — which stood about the 
stake of Servetus, — which administered the hemlock 
to Socrates, — which called for the crucifixion of our 
Lord. These majorities cannot make us hesitate to con- 
demn such acts and their authors. Aloft on the throne 
of God, and not below in the footprints of a trampling 
multitude, are the sacred rules of Eight, which no major- 
ities can displace or overturn. And the question recurs. 
Was it right to declare unjust and cowardly war, with 
superadded falsehood, in the cause of Slavery ? 

1 Speech, Nov. 27, 1780: Hansard, Pari. Hist., XXI. 905. 



AGAINST MEXICO. 327 

Thus do I set forth the character of your act, and the 
apologies by which it is shielded. I hoped that you 
would see the wrong, and with true magnanimity repair 
it. I hoped that your friends would all join in assist- 
ing you to recover the attitude of uprightness which 
becomes a Eepresentative from Boston. But I am dis- 
appointed. 

I add, that your course in other respects has been in 
disagreeable harmony mth the vote on the Mexican War 
Bill. I cannot forget — for I sat by your side at the time 
— that on the Fourth of July, 1845, in Faneuil Hall, you 
extended the hand of fellowship to Texas, although this 
slaveholding community was not yet received among the 
States of the Union. I cannot forget the toast,^ on the 
same occasion, by which you were willing to connect 
your name with an epigram of dishonest patriotism. I 
cannot forget your apathy at a later day, when many of 
your constituents engaged in constitutional efforts to 
oppose the admission of Texas with a slaveholding con- 
stitution, — so strangely inconsistent with your recent 
avowal of " uncompromising hostility to all measures for 
introducing new Slave States and new Slave Territories 
into our Union." ^ Nor can I forget the ardor with which 
you devoted yourself to the less important question of 
the Tariff, — indicating the relative value of the two in 
your mind. The vote on the Mexican War Bill seems 
to be the dark consummation of your course. 

Pardon me, if I ask you, on resuming your seat in 
Congress, to testify at once, without hesitation or de- 
lay, against the further prosecution of this war. Forget 

1 "Our country, — however bounded, still our country, to be defended 
by all our hands." 

2 Speech at the Whig Convention in Faneuil Hall, Sept. 23, 1846. 



328 WKONGFUL DECLARATION OF WAR 

for a while Sub-Treasury, Veto, even Tariff, and re- 
member this wicked war. With the eloquence which 
you command so easily, and which is your pride, call 
for the instant cessation of hostilities. Let your cry be 
that of Falkland in the Civil Wars : " Peace ! Peace ! " 
Think not of what you call in your speeches " an hon- 
orable peace." There can be no peace with Mexico 
which will not be more honorable than this war. Every 
fresh victory is a fresh dishonor. " Unquestionably," 
you have strangely said, "we are not to forget that 
Mexico must be wiUing to negotiate." ^ No ! no ! Mr. 
Winthrop ! We are not to wait for Mexico. Her con- 
sent is not needed ; nor is it to be asked, while our 
armies are defiling her soil by their aggressive footsteps. 
She is passive. We alone are active. Stop the war. 
Withdraw our forces. In the words of Colonel Wash- 
ington, Eetreat ! RETREAT ! So doing, we shall cease 
from further wrong, and peace will ensue. 

Let me ask you to remember in your public course 
the rules of Eight which you obey in private life. The 
principles of morals are the same for nations as for 
individuals. Pardon me, if I suggest that you have not 
acted invariably according to this truth. You would 
not in your private capacity set your name to a false- 
hood ; but you have done so as Representative in Con- 
gress. You would not in your private capacity coun- 
tenance wrong, even in friend or child ; but as Eepre- 
sentative you have pledged yourself "not to withhold 
your vote from any reasonable supplies which may be 
called for " ^ in the prosecution of a wicked war. Do by 

1 Speech at the Whig Convention, Sept. 23, 1846. 

2 Speech on the Tariff, June 25, 1846 : Congi-essional Globe, Twenty-ninth 
Congress, First Session, p. 970. 



AGAINST MEXICO. 329 

your country as by friend or child. To neither of these 
would you furnish means of offence against a neigh- 
bor; do not furnish to your country any such means. 
Again, you would not hold slaves. I doubt not you 
would join with Mr. Palfrey in emancipating any who 
should become yours by inheritance or otherwise. But 
I do not hear of your effort or sympathy with those 
who seek to carry into our institutions that practical 
conscience which declares it to be as wrong in States 
as in individuals to sanction slavery. 

Let me ask you still further — and you will know if 
there is reason for this request — to bear testimony 
against the Mexican War, and all supplies for its pros- 
ecution, regardless of the minority in which you are 
placed. Think, Sir, of the cause, and not of your asso- 
ciates. Forget for a while the tactics of party, and all 
its subtle combinations. Emancipate yourself from its 
close-woven web, spun as from a spider's belly, and 
move in the pathway of Eight. Eemeniber that you 
represent the conscience of Boston, the churches of the 
Puritans, the city of Channing. 

Meanwhile a fresh election is at hand, and you are 
again a candidate for the suffrages of your fellow-citi- 
zens. I shall not anticipate their verdict. Your blame- 
less private life and well-known attainments will re- 
ceive the approbation of all ; but more than one of your 
neighbors will be obliged to say, — 

" Cassio, I love thee, 
But nevermore be officer of mine ! " 

I am. Sir, your obedient servant, 

Chakles Sumker, 

October 26, 1846. 



REFUSAL TO BE A CANDIDATE FOR 
CONGRESS. 

Notice in the Boston Papers, October 31, 1846. 



After the appearance of Mr. Sumner's letter to Mr. Winthrop, there 
was a disposition with certain persons feeling strongly on Slavery and the 
Mexican War to seek a candidate against the latter. Mr. Sumner again 
and again refused to accept a nomination. Besides his constant unwill- 
ingness to enter into public life, he would not consent that his criticism 
of Mr. Winthrop should be weakened by the imputation of an unworthy 
desire for his place. In his absence from Boston, lecturing before 
Lyceums in Maine, a meeting of citizens was convened at the Tremont 
Temple on the evening of October 29, 1846, to make what was called an 
" independent nomination for Congress." The meeting was called to 
order by Dr. S. G. Howe, and organized by the choice of the following 
oflScers : Hon. Charles F. Adams, President, — J. P. Blanchard, Samuel 
May, George Merrill, Dr. Walter Channing, Dr. Henry I. Bowditch, 
and R. I. Attwill, Vice-Presidents, — Charles G. Davis and J. H. Frevert, 
Secretaries. A committee was appointed to draft resolutions and nom- 
inate a candidate. This committee, by its chairman, John A. Andrew, 
afterwards Governor of Massachusetts, reported an elaborate series of 
resolutions, setting forth reasons for a separate nomination, and con- 
cluding with a resolution in the following terms. 

" Resolved, That we recommend to the citizens of this District as a can- 
didate for Representative in the National Congress a man raised by his 
pure character above reproach, whose firmness, intelligence, distinguished 
ability, rational patriotism, manly independence, and glowing love of lib- 
erty and truth entitle him to the uubought confidence of his fellow-cit- 
izens, — CHARLES SUMNER, of Boston, — fitted to adorn any station, 
always found on the side of the Right, and especially worthy at the 
present crisis to represent the interests of the city and the cardinal prin- 
ciples of Truth, Justice, Liberty, and Peace, which have not yet died out 
from the hearts of her citizens." 

Mr. Andrew followed the reading of the resolutions with a speech, in 
which he vindicated the position of Mr. Sumner as follows. 



BEFUSAL TO BE A CANDIDATE FOR CONGRESS, 331 

" Mr. President, I shall have done no adequate justice to the views of the 
committee, to this meeting, to the distinguished friend of Peace and Liberty 
to whose nomination this crowded assembly has with such gratifying and 
enthusiastic heartiness so imequivocally responded, nor, indeed, to my own 
feelings, until I shall have made a single statement of fact in regard to the 
attitude of Mr. Sumner himself towards the act we have just felt it our duty 
to perform. 

" This nomination, gratefid as it may be to his feelings, considered as an 
evidence of personal attaclunent and respect on the part of so many of his 
friends and fellow-citizens, will find him wholly unprepared for its recep- 
tion; more than that, as I myself do know, he will hear of it with surprise 
and regret. Though I am unaware that any member of the committee, 
other than myself, has had any immediate personal knowledge of the views 
likely to be entertained by him in this regard, I say, what no living man 
can truly dispute or honestly question, that this nomination has been made 
upon the entire responsibility and sense of duty of this committee, — not 
only without the knowledge, approbation, or consent of Mr. Sumner, but in 
the face of his constant, repeated, and determined refusal, at all times, to 
allow his name, even for a moment, to be held at the disposal of friends for 
such a purpose. 

" A delicate and sensitive appreciation of his attitude, as one of the earliest, 
strongest, and most open of those opposed to the dealings of our present 
member of Congress with the matter of the Mexican War, determined Mr. 
Sumner, although looked to by — may I not say every individual who sym- 
pathizes in this present movement of opposition, as the man to bear our 
standard on the field of controversy ? — determined him to resist every 
effort to draw him forth from the humblest station in our ranks. 

" He would think, write, and speak as his own mind and heart were 
moved; but he would do nothing, he would permit nothing to be done, for 
himself, for his own personal promotion." 

Mr. Andrew then proceeded to mention what induced the committee 
to disregard Mr. Sumner's known wishes. 

The resolutions Avere adopted unanimously. A committee of vigi- 
lance was appointed. Mr. Sumner's letter to Mr. Winthrop, with the 
report of this meeting, signed by the President and Secretaries, was 
printed on a broad-side. 

Meanwhile Mr. Sumner returned from Maine, when, on learning 
what had passed, he at once withdrew his name in the following notice. 

LATE last evening, on my return from Bangor, where 
I had been in pursuance of an engagement made 
last August, I was surprised to find myseK nominated 
as candidate for Congress. 



332 BEFUSAL TO BE A CANDIDATE FOR CONGRESS. 

I have never on any occasion sought or desired public 
office of any kind. I do not now. My tastes are alien 
to official life ; and I have long been accustomed to look 
to other fields of usefulness. 

My name has been brought forward, in my absence, 
without any knowledge or suspicion on my part of such 
a purpose, and contrary to express declarations, repeat- 
edly made, that I would not, imder any circumstances, 
consent to be a candidate. 

Grateful for the kindness of friends who have thought 
me worthy of political confidence, and regretting much 
that it is not bestowed upon some one else, who would 
fitly represent the idea of opposition to the longer con- 
tinuance of the unjust war with Mexico, I beg leave 
respectfully, but explicitly, to withdraw my name from 

the canvass. 

Charles Sumner. 

Satukdat, October 31. 



SLAVERY Al^D THE MEXICAN WAR. 



Speech at a Public Meeting in the Tremont Temple, Boston, 
November 5, 1846. 



The sentiment against Slavery and the Mexican War found expres- 
sion in the independent nomination of Dr. S. G. Howe as Representative 
to Congress. At a meeting of citizens to support this nomination, John 
A. Andrew, Esq., was called to the chair. The following resolution was 
reported from the District Committee by John S. Eldridge, Esq. 

" Resolved, That in the determination of our candidate, Dr. Samuel G. 
Howe, ' to stand and be shot at,' we recognize the spirit of a man distin- 
guished by a life of service in various fields of humanity; and, confidently 
trusting in the triumph of sound principles, we heartily pledge ourselves to 
make, with untiring zeal, every honorable effort to secure the election of a 
candidate who has boldly identified himself with the cause of Ti-uth, Peace, 
Justice, the Liberties of the North, and the Rights of Man." 

On this resolution Mr. Sumner made the speech given below. He 
was followed by Hon. C. F. Adams, who reviewed the Anti-Slavery pol- 
icy pursued for several years by the Massachusetts Legislature, and the 
obstacles they encountered. 

At the election, which took place on Monday, November 9th, the vote 
was as follows: Winthrop (Whig), 5,980 ; Howe (Anti-Slavery), 1,334; 
Homer (Democrat), 1,688 ; Whiton (Independent), 331. 

ME. CHAIEMAN", — Wlien, in the month of July, 
1830, the people of Paris rose against the arbi- 
trary ordinances of Charles the Tenth, and, after three 
days of bloody contest, succeeded in that Eevolution 
which gave the dynasty of Orleans to the throne of 
Prance, Lafayette, votary of Liberty in two hemispheres. 



334 SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

placing himself at the head of the movement, made his 
way on foot to the City Hall, through streets impassable 
to carriages, filled with barricades, and strewn with 
wrecks of war. Moving along with a thin attendance, 
he was unexpectedly joined by a gallant Bostonian, who, 
though young in life, was already eminent by seven 
years of disinterested service in the struggle for Gre- 
cian independence against the Turks, who had listened 
to the whizzing of bullets, and narrowly escaped the 
descending scimitar. Lafayette, considerate as brave, 
turned to his faithful friend, and said, " Do not join 
me ; this is a danger for Frenclunen only ; reserve your- 
self for your own country, where you will be needed." 
Our fellow-citizen heeded him not, but continued by his 
side, sharing his perils. That Bostonian was Dr. Howe. 
And now the words of Lafayette are verified. He is 
needed by his country. At the present crisis, in our 
Eevolution of " Three Days," he comes forward to the 
post of danger. 

I do not disguise the satisfaction I shall feel in vot- 
ing for him, beyond even the gratification of personal 
friendship, because he is not a politician. His life is 
thickly studded with labors in the best of all causes, 
the good of man. He is the friend of the poor, the 
blind, the prisoner, the slave. "VVlierever there is suf- 
fering, there his friendship is manifest. Generosity, 
disinterestedness, seK-sacrifice, and courage have been 
his inspiring sentiments, directed by rare sagacity and 
intelligence ; and now, wherever Humanity is regarded, 
wherever bosoms beat responsive to philanthropic effort, 
his name is cherished. Such a character reflects lustre 
upon the place of his birth, far more than if he had 
excelled only in the strife of politics or the servitude 
of party. 



SLAVEKY AND THE MEXICAN WAK. 335 

He has qualities wMcli especially commend him at 
this time. He is firm, ever true, honest, determined, a 
lover of the Eight. With a courage that charms oppo- 
sition, he would not fear to stand alone against a fervid 
majority. Knowing war by fearful familiarity, he is 
an earnest defender of peace. With a singular experi- 
ence of life in other countries, he now brings the stores 
he has garnered up, and his noble spirit, to the service 
of his fellow-citizens. 

But we are assembled to-night less to consider his 
praises — grateful as these would be to me, who claim 
him as friend — than to examine the principles now 
in issue. Not names, but principles, are now in issue. 
Proud as we may be of our candidate, we feel, and he 
too feels, that his principles on the grave questions now 
pending are his truest recommendation. 

In examining these questions, I shall regard those 
only which are put in issue by the Wliigs. It is with 
the Whigs that I have heretofore acted, and may here- 
after act, — always confessing loyalty to principles 
above any party. 

The Eesolutions of the recent Whig State Convention 
present five different questions, with the opinions of the 
party thereupon. These are the Veto of the President, 
the Sub-Treasury, the Tariff, Slavery, and the Mexican 
War. Now, of these five questions, it will not be dis- 
guised that the last two are the most important. Slavery- 
is a wrong which justice and humanity alike condemn. 
The Mexican War is an enormity born of Slavery. 
Viewed as a question of dollars and cents, it over- 
shadows the others ; while the blackness of its guilt 
compels them to the darkness of a total eclipse. Base 
in object, atrocious in beginning, immoral in all its 



336 SLAVEEY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

influences, vainly prodigal of treasure and life ; it is a 
war of infamy, whicli must blot the pages of our his- 
tory. No success, no bravery, no victory can change 
its character. Vainly will our flag wave in triumph 
over twenty fields. Shame, and not glory, will attend 
our footsteps, while, in the spirit of a bully, we em- 
ploy superior resources of wealth and numbers in carry- 
ing death and devastation to a poor, distracted, long af- 
flicted sister republic. Without disparaging the other 
questions, every just and humane person will recognize 
Slavery and the Mexican War as paramount to all else, 
— so much so, that whoever is wrong on these must be 
so entirely wrong as not to deserve the votes of Mas- 
sachusetts men. 

The Whig Convention has furnished a rule or meas- 
ure of opinion. It has expressly pledged the Whigs " to 
promote all constitutional measures for the overthrow 
of Slavery, and to oppose at all times, with uncompro- 
mising zeal and firmness, any further addition of slave- 
holding States to this Union, out of whatever territory 
formed." The Mexican War it has denounced as hav- 
ing its origin in an invasion of Mexico hy oihr troops. 

Now on these subjects Dr. Howe's opinions are clear 
and explicit. He is an earnest, hearty, conscientious op- 
ponent of Slavery, and in his speech at your former 
meeting he denounced the injustice of the Mexican War, 
and, as a natural consequence, demanded the instant 
retreat of General Taylor's troops to the Nueces. 

And this brings me to Mr. Winthrop. Here let me 
carefully disclaim any sentiment except of kindness 
towards him as a citizen. It is of Mr. Winthrop the 
politician that I speak, and not of Mr. Winthrop the 
honorable gentleman. 



SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 337 

And, first, what may we expect from him against 
Slavery ? Will lie promote all constitutional measures 
for its overthrow ? Clearly one of these is the Abolition 
of Slavery in the District of Columbia. This is within 
the constitutional powers of Congress, and has been called 
for expressly by our State. It has sometimes occurred 
to me that Slavery in our country is like the image in 
Nebuchadnezzar's dream, whose feet of clay are in the 
District of Columbia, where they may be shivered by 
Congressional legislation, directed by an enlightened 
Northern sentiment, so that the whole image shall tum- 
ble to the earth. Other measures against Slavery are 
sanctioned by the Massachusetts Wliigs, and by the Le- 
gislature of our State, in formal resolutions, duly trans- 
mitted to Washington. I have never heard of Mr. 
Winthrop's voice for any of these, — nor, judging by the 
past, have I any reason to belieVe that he will support 
them earnestly. On these important points he fails, if 
tried by Whig standards. 

Will he oppose, at all times, without compromise, any 
further addition of slaveholding States ? Here again, if 
we judge him by the past, he is wanting. None can 
forget that in 1845, on the Fourth of July, a day ever 
sacred to memories of Freedom, in a speech at Faneuil 
Hall, he volunteered, in advance of any other Northern 
Wliig, to receive Texas with a welcome into the family 
of States, although on that very day she was preparing 
a Constitution placing Slavery beyond the reach of legis- 
lative change. 

The conclusion is irresistible, that Mr. Winthrop can- 
not fitly represent the feeling palpitating in Massachu- 
setts bosoms, and so often expressed by our Legislature, 
with regard to Slavery. 
VOL. I. — 22 



338 SLAVEKY A]^D THE MEXICAN WAR. 

What may we expect from him as to the Mexican War? 
This brings me to a melancholy inquiry, on which I am 
the less disposed to dwell because it has already been so 
fully considered. Will he ascend to the heights of a 
true civilization, and, while branding the war as unjust, 
call at once for its cessation, and the withdrawal of our 
forces ? There is no reason to believe that he will. He 
voted for the Act of Congress under which it is now 
waged, and by that disastrous vote made his constitu- 
ents partakers in a wicked and bloody war. At a later 
day, in an elaborate speech,^ he vindicated his action, and 
promised " not to withhold his vote from any reasonable 
supplies which may be called for " in the prosecution of 
the war, — adding, that he should vote for them " to en- 
able the President to achieve that lionorable -peace which 
he has solemnly promised to bring about at the earliest 
possible moment" hy the sword. And, pray, what is 
Mr. Winthrop's idea of an "honorable peace"? Is it 
peace imposed upon a weak neighbor by brute force, the 
successful consummation of unrighteous war ? Is it the 
triumph of wrong ? Is it the Saturnalia of Slavery ? 
Is it the fruit of sin ? Is it a baptism of blood unjustly 
shed ? In the same speech, with grievous insensibility to 
the sordid character of the suggestion, he pleads for the 
maintenance of the old Tariff, as necessary to meet " the 
exigencies " of the Mexican War. " In a time of war, 
like the present, more especially," he says, " an amjile 
revenue should he the primary aim and end of all our 
custom-house duties" Perish manufactures, let me rather 
say, if the duties by which they seem to be protected 
are swollen to feed " the exigencies " of unjust war ! 
Afterwards, at Faneuil HaU, before the Whig Conven- 

1 Speech on the Tariff, June 25, 1846. 



SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAE. 339 

tion, he shows a similar insensibility. Nowhere does he 
sound the word Duty. Nowhere does he tell his country 
to begin by doing right. Nowhere does he give assur- 
ance of aid by calling for the instant stay of the war. 

There are those who, admitting that his vote was a 
mistake, say that we are not to judge him on this account. 
Can we afford to send a representative who can make 
such a mistake ? But it is a mistake never by him 
acknowledged as such. It is still persisted in, and 
hugged. Among the last words of warning from the 
lips of Chatham, as he fell at his post in the British 
Senate, almost his dying words, were "against co-opera- 
tion with men who still persist in unretracted error." 

In his vote for the Mexican War Mr. Wintlirop was 
not a Wliig. He then left the party : for surely the 
party is not where numbers prevail, but where its prin- 
ciples are recognized. The true Whigs are the valiant 
minority of fourteen. Once in Roman history, the ves- 
tal fire, the archives, the sacred volumes of the Republic, 
were in the custody of a single individual, in a humble 
vehicle, fleeing from the burning city. AVith him was 
the life of the Republic. So in that small minority was 
the life of the Whig party, with its principles and its 
sacred fire. 

The true Whig ground, the only ground consistent 
with professed loyalty to the sentiment of duty, is un- 
compromising opposition to the war, wheresoever and 
howsoever opposition may be made. Expecting right 
from Mexico, we must begin by doing right. We are 
aggressors, and must cease to be so. 

This is the proper course, having its foundations in 
immutable laws. Let me repeat, that our country must 
do as an individual in like circumstances. For, though 



340 SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

politicians may disown it, there is but one rule for na- 
tions and for individuals. If any one of you, fellow- 
citizens, finding yourself in dispute with a neighbor, had 
unfortunately felled him to earth, but, with returning 
reason, discovered that you were wrong, what would you 
do ? Of course, cease instantly from wrong-doing. You 
would help your neighbor to his feet, and with awaken- 
ed benevolence soothe liis wounded nature. Precisely 
so must our country do now. This can be only by 
the withdrawal of our forces. Peace would then fol- 
low. The very response sent to the Koman Senate 
by a province of Italy might be repeated by the Mex- 
icans : " The Eomans, having preferred justice to con- 
quest, have taught us to be satisfied with submission 
instead of liberty." 

That I may not found these conclusions upon general 
principles only, I would invoke the example of English 
Whigs, Chatham, Camden, Burke, Fox, and Sheridan, 
in opposition to the war of our Eevolution, — denoun- 
cing it at the outset as unjust, and ever, during its 
whole progress, declaring their condemnation of it, — 
voting against supplies for its prosecution, and against 
thanks for the military services by which it was waged. 
Holding their example as of the highest practical au- 
thority on the present question, and as particularly fit 
to be regarded by all professing to be Wliigs in America, 
I make no apology for introducing the authentic evidence 
which places it beyond doubt. This is to be found in 
the volumes of the Parliamentary Debates. I am not 
aware that it has ever before been applied to the present 
discussion, although it is in every word especially ap- 
plicable. 

I besin with that famous instance where two ofl&cers 



SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 341 

— one the son of Lord Chatham, and the other the Earl 
of Effingham — flung up their commissions rather than 
fight against constitutional liberty as upheld by our 
fathers. In the case of the latter especially the sacri- 
fice was great; for he was bred to arms, and enjoyed the 
service. From his place in the House of Lords, May 
18, 1775, he vindicated his act in the following terms. 

" Ever since I was of an age to have any ambition at all, my 
highest has been to serve my country in a mihtary capacity. 
If there was on earth an event I dreaded, it was to see this 
country so situated as to make that profession incompatible 
with my duty as a citizen. That period is in my opinion 

an-ived When the duties of a soldier and a citizen 

become inconsistent, I shaU always think myself obliged to 
sink the character of the soldier in that of the citizen, till 
such time as those duties shall again, by the malice of our 
real enemies, become united." 

These generous words found an echo at the time. A 
note in the Parliamentary History says, " The Twenty- 
second Regiment of Foot, in which he held a captain's 
commission, being ordered to America, he resolved, 
though not possessed of an ample patrimony, to resign a 
darling profession, and all hopes of advancement, rather 
than bear arms in a cause he did not approve " ; and the 
record proceeds to say that " the cities of London and 
Dublin voted him their thanks for this conduct." ^ If a 
soldier could bear testimony against an unjust war, it 
was easy for others not under the constraint of martial 
prejudice to do so. The sequel shows how the example 
prevailed. 

First came the famous Duke of Grafton, who, in the 
House of Lords, on the Address of Thanks, October 26, 

1 Vol. XVIII., col. 688. See also Annual Register for 1776, Vol. XIX. p. 42j. 



342 SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

1775, after the Battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill, 
said : — 

" I pledge myself to your Lordships and my country, that, 
if necessity should require it, and my health not otherwise 
permit it, I mean to come down to this House in a litter, in 
order to express my full and hearty disapprobation of the 
measures now pursuing, and, as I understand fi'om the noble 
Lords in office, meant to be pursued. I do protest to your 
Lordships, that, if my brother or my dearest friend were to 
be affected by the vote I mean to give this evening, I could 
not possibly resist the faithful discharge of my conscience 
and my duty. Were T to lose my fortune and every other 
thing I esteem, were 1 to be reduced to beggary itself, the 
strong conviction and compulsion at once operating on my 
mind and conscience would not permit me to take any other 
part on the present occasion than that I now mean to adopt." 

A protest at the close of this debate was signed 
by several peers, containing the following emphatic 
clause : — 

" Because we cannot, as Englishmen, as Christians, or as 
men of common humanity, consent to the prosecution of a 
cruel civil war, so little supported by justice, and so very fa- 
tal in its necessary consequences, as that which is now wag- 
ing against our brethren and fellow-subjects in America." 

This was echoed in the House of Commons, where, 
on the same Address, Mr. Wilkes said : — 

" I call the war with our brethren in America an unjust, 

felonious war I assert that it is a murderous war, 

because it is an effort to deprive men of their lives for stand- 
ing up in the just cause of the defence of their property and 
their clear rights. It becomes no less a murderous war with 
respect to many of our fellow-subjects of this island ; for 
every man, either of the navy or army, who has been sent 



SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 343 

by Government to America, and fallen a victim in this un- 
natural and unjust contest, has in my opinion been mur- 
dered by Administration, and his blood lies at their door. 
Such a war, I fear, Sir, will draw down the vengeance of 
Heaven upon this devoted kingdom." 

Mr. Fox expressed himself as follows : — 

" He could not consent to the bloody consequences of so silly 
a contest about so siUy an object, conducted in the silliest 
manner that history or observation had ever furnished an 
instance of, and from which we were likely to derive nothing 
but poverty, misery, disgrace, defeat, and ruin." 

He was followed by the eminent lawyer, Serjeant 
Adair : — 

" I am against the present war, because I think it unjust in 
its commencement, injurious to both countries in its prose- 
cution, and ruinous in its event I think, from the 

bottom of my soul, that the Colonies are engaged in a noble 

and glorious struggle Sir, I could not be easy in 

my own mind without entering the strongest and most pub- 
lic protestations against measures which appear to me to be 
fraught with the destruction of this mighty empire. I wash 
my hands of the Mood of my felloro-stibjects, and shall at 
least have this satisfaction, amidst the impending calamities 
of the public, not only to think that I have not contributed 
to, but that I have done aU in my power to oppose and avert, 
the ruin of my country." 

During another debate in the Lords, November 15, 
1775, that strenuous friend of freedom and upholder 
of Wliig principles. Lord Camden, declared himself 
thus : — 

" Peace is still within our power ; nay, we may command 
it. A suspension of arms on our part, if adopted in time, 
wiU secure it for us, and, I may add, on our own terms. 



344 SLAVEEY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

From which it is plain, as we have been the original aggressors 
in this business, if ive obstinately persist, we are fairly answer- 
able for all the consequences. I again repeat, what I often 
urged before, that I was against this imnatural war from 
the beginning. I was equally against every measure, from 
the instant the first tax was proposed to this minute. 
When, therefore, it is insisted that we aim only to defend 
and enforce our own rights, I positively deny it. I contend 
that America has been driven by cruel necessity to defend 
her rights from the united attacks of violence, oppression, 
and injustice. I contend that America has been indisputably 

aggrieved I must still think, and shall uniformly 

continue to assert, that Great Britain was the aggressor, 
that most, if not all, the acts were founded in oppression, 
and that, if I were an American, I should resist to the last 
such manifest exertion of tyranny, violence, and injustice." 

On another occasion, in the Commons, December 8, 
1775, Mr. Fox expressed himself thus sententiously : — 

" I have always said that the war carrying on against 
the Americans is unjust." 

Again, in the Lords, March 5, 1776, the Earl of 
Effingham said : — 

" I never can stand up in your Lordships' presence without 
throwing in a few words on the justice of this unnatiu-al 
war." 

In the Commons, March 11, 1776, Colonel Barre, Mr. 
Burke, Mr. Fox, all vied in eulogy of General Mont- 
gomery, the account of whose death before Quebec had 
arrived a few days before. 

The same spirit was constantly manifest. In the 
Commons, April 24, 1776, in the debate on the Budget, 
embodying taxes to carry on the war against America, 



SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAE. 345 

Mr. Fox laid down the constitutional rule of opposition 
to an unjust war, 

" To the resolutions he should give his flat negative, and 
that not because of any particidar objections to the taxes 
proposed (although there might be a sufiicient ground for 
urging many), but because he could not conscientiously agree 
to grant any money for so destructive, so ignoble a purpose as 
the carrying on a war commenced unjustly, and supported with 
no other view than to the extirpation of freedom and the vio- 
lation of every social compact. This he conceived to be 

THE STRICT LINE OF CONDUCT TO BE OBSERVED BY A MEMBER 

OP Parliament He then painted the quarrel with 

America as unjust, and the pursuance of the war as blood- 
thirsty and oppressive." 

Colonel Barre followed, and adopted the phrase of Mr. 
Fox, " giving his flat negative to the resolutions, as they 
were calculated to tax the subject for a7i unjust purposer 

The Duke of Grafton, in the Lords, October 31, 1776, 
repeated the sentiments he had avowed at an earlier 
day. 

" He pledged himself to the House, and to the public, 
that, while he had a leg to stand on, he would come down 
day after day to express the most marked abhorrence of the 
measures hitherto pursued, and meant to be adhered to, in 
respect to America." 

On the same night, in the Commons, Mr. Fox ex- 
claimed : — 

" The noble Lord who moved the amendment said that 
we were in the dilemma of conquering or abandoning Amei'ica. 
If we are reduced to that, I am for abandoning America?^ 

In the Commons, November 6, 1776, Mr. Burke 
likened England to a " cruel conqueror." 



346 SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

" You simply tell the Colonists to lay down their arms, 
and then you will do just as you please. Could the most 
cruel conqueror say less ? Had you conquered the Devil 
himself in Hell, could you be less liberal?" 

Colonel Barre, in the Commons, February 10, 1777, 
insisted : — 

" America must be reclaimed, not conquered or subdued. 
Conciliation or concession are the only sure means of either 
gaining or retaining America." 

The Budget came up again in the Commons, May 14, 
1777, when Mr. Burke spoke nobly : — 

" He was, and ever would be, ready to support a just war, 
whether against subjects or alien enemies ; but where justice, 
or a color of justice, was wanting, he shovdd ever be the first 
to oppose it." 

All these declarations were crowned by Lord Chatham's 
motion in the Lords, May 30, 1777, to put a stop to 
American hostilities, when he spoke so wisely and 
bravely. 

" "We have tried for unconditional submission : try what 
can he gained hy unconditional redress We are the ag- 
gressors. We have invaded them. We have invaded them 

as much as the Spanish Armada invaded England 

In the sportsman's phrase, when you have found yourselves 

at fault, you mxist try hack I shall no doubt hear it 

objected, * Why should we submit or concede 1 Has America 
done anything, on her part, to induce us to agree to so large 
a ground of concession ? ' I will tell you, my Lords, why I 
think you should. You have heen the aggressors from the 

beginning If, then, we are the aggressors, it is your 

Lordships^ business to make the first overture. I say again, 
this country has been the aggressor. You have made de- 
scents upon their coasts ; you have burnt their towns, plun- 



SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 347 

dered their country, made war upon the iuliabitants, con- 
fiscated their property, proscribed and imprisoned their 
persons. / do therefore affirm, that, instead of exacting un- 
conditional submission from the Colonies, we shoidd grant 
them tmconditional redress. We have injured them ; we 
have endeavored to enslave and oppress them. Upon this 
clear ground, instead of chastisement, they are entitled to 
redress." 

Again Lord Chatham broke out, November 18, 1777, 
in words most applicable to the present occasion. 

" I would sell my shirt off my back to assist in proper 
measures, properly and wisely conducted ; hut I would ^ot 
part with a single shilling to the present ministers. Their 
plans are founded in destruction and disgrace. It is, my 
Lords, a ruinous and destructive war ; it is full of danger ; it 

teems with disgrace, and must end in ruin If I 

were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign 
troop was landed in my country, I never would lay down 
my arms ! — never ! — never ! — never ! " 

The Duke of Eicbmond, in the -Lords, on the same 
occasion, returned to the charge in a similar spirit. 

" Can we too soon put a stop to such a scene of carnage ? 
My Lords, I know that what I am going to say is not fash- 
ionable language ; but a time will come when every one of 
us must account to God for his actions, and how can we 
justify causing so many innocent lives to be lost 1 " 

In the Commons, December 5, 1777, Mr. Hartley, 
the constant friend of America, brought forward a 
motion : — 

" That it is unbecoming the wisdom and prudence of Par- 
liament to proceed any farther in the support of this fruit- 
less, expensive, and destructive war, more especially without 
any specific terms of accommodation declared." 



348 SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

The Marquis of Eockingliam, in the Lords, Februaiy 
16, 1778, exclaimed : — 

" He was determined to serve his country hy making peace 
at any rate." 

At last, in the Lords, March 23, 1778, the Duke of 
Eichmond brought forward a motion for the withdrawal 
of the forces from America. 

The same question was presented again in the Com- 
mons, November 27, 1780, on a motion to thank General 
Clinton and others for their military services in Amer- 
ica, when Mr. Wilkes laid down the true rule. 

" I think it my duty to oppose this motion, because in my 
idea every part of it conveys an approbation of the Ameri- 
can War, — a war unfounded in principle, and fatal in its 

consequences to this country Sir, I will not thanh for 

victories which only tend to protract a destructive war As 

I reprobate the want of principle in the origin of the Ameri- 
can War, I the more lament all the spirited exertions of 
valor and the wisdom of conduct which in a good cause I 
should warmly applaud. Thinking as I do, I see more mat- 
ter of grief than of triumph, of bewailing than thanksgiv- 
ing, in this civil contest, and the deluge of blood which has 

overflowed America I deeply lament that the lustre 

of such splendid victories is obscured and darkened by the 
want of a good cause, without which no war, in the eye of 
truth and reason, before God or man, can be justified." 

Mr. Fox followed in similar strain. 

"He allowed the merits of the officers now in question, but 
he made a distinction between thanks and praise. He might 
admire their valor, but he could not separate the intention 
from the action ; they were united in his mind ; there they 
formed one whole, and he would not attempt to divide them." 

Mr. Sheridan joined in these declarations. 



SLAVEEY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 349 

" There were in that House different descriptions of men 
who could not assent to a vote that seemed to imply a recognition 
or apiorobation of the American War." 

All these words are memorable from the occasion of 
their utterance, from the statesmen who uttered them, 
and from the sentiments avowed. The occasion was 
the war of Great Britain upon our fathers. The states- 
men were the greatest masters of political wisdom and 
eloquence that England has given to the world. The 
sentiments were all in harmony with what I have urged 
on the present occasion. Orators contended with each 
other in the strength of their language. Lord Camden 
averred that " Great Britain was the aggressor." The 
Duke of Grafton declared, that, " while he had a leg to 
stand on," he would express his " abhorrence " of the war. 
Chatham gave utterance to the same sentiment in one of 
his most magnificent orations. And Wilkes, Sheridan, 
Fox, and Burke echoed this strain, all insisting that the 
war was unjust, and must therefore be stopped. 

Thus far I have quoted testimony from Parliamentary 
debates on our own Revolution ; but going farther back, 
we find similar authority. When Charles the First sent 
assistance to the French against the Huguenots in Eo- 
chelle, the officers and men did more than murmur ; and 
here our authority is Hume. The commander of one 
of the ships " declared that he would rather be hanged 
in England for disobedience than fight against his 
brother Protestants in France." ^ 

They went back to the Downs. Having received new 
orders, they sailed again for France. 

" When they aiTived at Dieppe, they found that they had 
been deceived. Sir Ferdinando Gorges, who commanded one 
1 Hume, History of England, Chap. L. 



350 SLAVEKY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

of the vessels, broke through and returned to England. All 
the officers and sailors of all the other ships, notwithstanding 
great offers made them by the French, immediately deserted. 
One gunner alone preferred duty towards his king to the 
cause of religion, and he was afterwards killed in charging 
a cannon before Rochelle." ^ 

The same sentiment prevailed also in the war upon 
Spain by Cromwell, when several naval officers, having 
scruples of conscience with regard to the justice of the 
war, threw up their commissions and retired. Here 
again Hume is our authority. 

" No commands, they thought, of their superiors could 
justify a war which was contrary to the principles of natural 
equity, and which the civil magistrate had no right to order. 
Individuals, they maintained, in resigning to the public their 
natural liberty, could bestow on it only what they themselves 
were possessed of, a right of performing lawful actions, and 
could invest it with no authority of commanding what is 
contrary to the decrees of Heaven." ^ 

Here again it is soldiers who refuse to fight in unjust 
war. 

Such is the doctrine of morals sanctioned by English 
examples. Such should be the doctrine of an Ameri- 
can statesman. If we apply it to the existing exigen- 
cy, or try the candidates by this standard, we find, that, 
as Dr. Howe is unquestionably right, so Mr. Winthrop 
is too certainly wrong. Exalting our own candidate, I 
would not unduly disparage another. It is for the sake 
of the cause in which we are engaged, by the side of 
which individuals dwindle into insignificance, that we 
now oppose Mr. Winthrop, bearing our testimony against 

1 Hume, History of England, Chap. L. 

2 Ibid., Chap. LXI. 



SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAK. 351 

Slavery and the longer continuance of the Mexican 
"War, demanding the retreat of General Taylor and the 
instant withdrawal of the American forces. Even if we 
seem to fail in this election, we shall not fail in reality. 
The influence of this effort will help to awaken and 
organize that powerful public opinion by which tliis 
war will at last be arrested. 

Hang out, fellow-citizens, the white banner of Peace ; 
let the citizens of Boston rally about it ; and may it be 
borne forward by an enlightened, conscientious people, 
aroused to condemnation of this murderous war, until 
Mexico, now wet with blood unjustly shed, shall repose 
undisturbed beneath its folds. 



INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

IN THE MASSACHUSETTS REGIMENT OF VOLUN- 
TEERS FOR THE MEXICAN WAR. 

Argument befor^the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, 
January, 1847. 



By the Mexican War Bill (approved May 13, 1846) the President 
was authorized " to call for and accept the semces of any number of 
volunteers, not exceeding fifty thousand," and provision was made for 
their organization. The Governor of Massachusetts, by proclamation, 
called for a Regiment in this Commonwealth, which was organized under 
the Act of Congress. Before it had left the Commonwealth, applica- 
tions for discharge were made to the Supreme Court of Massachusetts 
in behalf of several persons repenting their too hasty enlistment. At the 
hearing, the proceedings by which the Regiment had been organized 
were called in question. Their validity was denied on the ground that 
the Act of Congress, in some of its essential provisions concerning 
volunteers, was unconstitutional, — that the enlistments were not in 
conformity with the Act, — and also that the militia laws of Massachu- 
setts had been fraudulently used in forming the regiment. These 
points, and the further question, whether a minor is bound by his con- 
tract of enlistment under the Act, were argued by Mr. Sumner, who 
appeared as counsel for one of the petitioners. The Court sustained 
the validity of the proceedings, but discharged the minors. — See In Re 
Kimball, Murray, and Stone, 9 Law Reporter, 500, where the case is re- 
ported. 

May it please your Honors, 

THIS cause has a strong claim upon the careful con- 
sideration of the Court. It conies with a trinoda 
necessitas, a triple cord, to bind its judgment. It is 
important as respects the parties, the public, and the 
principles involved. 



INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS. 353 

To tlie imrtks, it is one of the liighest questions 
known to the law, being a question of human freedom. 
It is proposed to hold the petitioner in the servitude of 
tlie army for an indefinite space of time, namely, " for 
the duration of the war with Mexico." During all this 
period, he will be subject to martial law, and to the 
Articles of War, with the terrible penalties of desertion. 
He will be under the command of officers, at whose 
word he must move from place to place beyond the con- 
fines of the country, and perform unwelcome duties, in- 
volving his own life and the lives of others. 

To the puUic, it is important, as it is surely of espe- 
cial consequence, in whose hands is placed the power of 
life and death. The soldier is vested with extraordinary 
attributes. He is at times more than marshal or sheriff. 
He is also surrounded by the law with certain immunities, 
one of which is exemption from imprisonment for debt. 

It is important from the principles involved. These 
■are the distinctions between the different kinds of mil- 
itary force under the Constitution of the United States, 
the constitutionality of the Act of Congress of May, 
1846, and the legality of the enlistments under it. The 
determination of these questions will establish or annul 
the immense and complex Volunteer System now set in 
motion. 

In a case of such magnitude, I shall be pardoned for 
dwelling carefully upon the different questions. In the 
course of my argument I hope to establish the following 
propositions. 

First. That the forces contemplated by the Act of 
May, 1846, are a part of the " army " of the United States, 
•or its general military force, and not of the " militia." 

Secondly. That the part of the Act of Congress of 1846 
VOL. I. — 23 



354 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

providing for the officering of the companies is uncon- 
stitutional, and the proceedings thereunder are void. 

Thirdly. That the present contract is illegal, inasmuch 
as it is not according to the terms of the Statute, which 
prescribes that it shall be for " twelve months or the 
war," whereas it is " for the war " only. 

Fourthly. That it is illegal, being entered into by an 
improper use of the militia laws of Massachusetts, so as 
to be 2^ fraud on those laws. 

Fifthly. That minors cannot be held by contract of 
enlistment under the present Act. 

I shall now consider these different propositions. 

First. The force contemplated by the Act of May, 
1846, is a part of the army of the United States, or of 
its general military force, and not of the militia. 

It is called " volunteers " ; but on inquiry it will ap- 
pear that it has elements inconsistent with militia, while 
it wants elements essential to militia. 

Without stopping to consider what these elements are, 
it will be proper, first, to consider the powers of Congress 
over the land forces. Congress is not omnipotent, like 
the British Parliament. It can do only what is per- 
mitted by the Constitution of the United States, and in 
the maimer permitted. We are, then, to search the Con- 
stitution. 

Here we find two different species of land forces, and 
only two. These are " armies " and " militia." There 
is between the two no hybrid or heteroclite, — no ter- 
tium quid. 

These forces are referred to and sanctioned by the fol- 
lowing clauses, and by no others : " The Congress shall 
have power to raise and support armies ; to provide for 
calling forth the militia to execute the laws of the Union, 



TJNDEE THE MEXICAN WAK BILL. 355 

suppress insurrections, and repel invasions ; to pro\dde 
for organizing arming, and disciplining the militia, and 
for governing such part of them as may be employed in 
the service of the United States, reserving to the States, 
respectively, the appointment of the officers, and the author- 
ity of training the militia, according to the discipline 
prescribed by Congress." (Art. I. § 8.) And again : 
"The President shall be commander-in-chief of the 
army and navy of the United States, and of the militia 
of the several States, when called into the ax^tual service of 
the United States." (Art. II. § 2.) 

It has been ably argued by Mr. Lanier, in the Virginia 
Assembly, that the distinction between army and militia 
is, that the first stands on contract or voluntary enlistment, 
and the second on the law compelling parties to serve ; 
that this simple test determines the character of the ser- 
vice. Did the party enter voluntarily or by operation of 
lau) ? If voluntarily, then he is in the " army " ; if com- 
pulsorily, or by operation of law, then he is in the 
" militia." This distinction is palpable, and is true, I 
think, beyond question, with regard to the " army " and 
" militia " under existing laws. I am not prepared to 
say that Congress, under the clause authorizing it " to 
raise and support armies," may not, following the example 
of other countries, enforce a conscription, or levy, which 
shall act compulsorily throughout the country, being in 
this respect like the militia, although imhke it in other 
respects. Such a plan was recommended by Mr. Monroe, 
when Secretary of War, October 17, 1814, who speaks 
of it as follows. 

" The limited power which the United States have in or- 
ganizing the militia may be urged as an argument against 



356 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

their right to raise regular troops in the mode proposed. If any 
argument could be drawn from that circumstance, I should 
suppose that it would be in favor of an opposite conclusion. 
The power of the United States over the militia has been 
limited, and that for raising regular armies granted with- 
out limitation. There was, doubtless, some object in this 
arrangement. The fair inference seems to be, that it was 
made on great consideration, — that the limitation in the 
first instance was intentional, the consequence of the unqual- 
ified grant of the second. 

" But it is said, that by drawing the men from the militia 
service into the regvdar army and putting them imder reg- 
ular ofiicers you violate a principle of the Constitution which 
provides that the militia shall he commanded hy their own 
officers. If this was the fact, the conclusion would foUow. 
But it is not the fact. The men are not drawn from the 
militia, but from the population of the country. When they 
enlist voluntarily, it is not as militia-men that they act, hut as 
citizens. If they are drafted, it must be in the same sense. 
In both instances they are enrolled in the militia corps ; 
but that, as is presumed, cannot prevent the voluntary act 
in one instance or the compulsive in the other. The whole 
population of the United States, within certain ages, belong 
to these corps. If the United States could not form regular 
armies from them, they could raise none." ^ 

If Mr. Monroe's views are sound, the " army " of the 
United States, as well as the " militia," may be raised 
by draft. It may consist of regulars and irregulars. 

But whatever may be the powers of Congress on this 
subject, it is certain that there is no legislation now in 
force, providing for the " army," except by means of 
voluntary enlistment. The whole army of the United 
States is, at present, an army of volunteers ; and all per- 

1 NOes's Register, Vol. VII. p. 139: November 5, 1814. 



UNDEK THE MEXICAN WAE BILL. 357 

sons who are volunteers are of the army, and not of the 
militia. To call them volunteers does not take them 
out of the category of the army, or general military- 
force of the United States. 

On the other hand, the militia, when in the service 
of the United States as militia, are not vohmteers. They 
come by draft or conscription. This distinction is de- 
rived from England, to whom we are indebted for so 
much of our jurisprudence, and so many principles of 
constitutional law. We find from Blackstone (Vol. I. 
p. 412), that the English militia consists of " the in- 
habitants of the county, chosen by lot for three years." 
They are called " the constitutional security which the 
laws have provided for the public peace and for protect- 
ing the realm against foreign or domestic violence"; and 
" they are not compellable to march out of their counties, 
unless in case of invasion or actual rebellion within the 
realm, nor in any case compellable to march out of the 
hingdom." They are " officered by the lord-lieutenant, 
the deputy-lieutenants, and other principal landholders, 
under a commission from the crown." It wiU be ob- 
served, from this description, that there are four dis- 
tinct elements in the English militia. 1. It is in its 
nature a draft or conscription. 2. It is local in its 
character. 3. It is officered by persons in the county. 
4. It can be called out only on peculiar exigencies, 
expressly designated. In all these respects it is distin- 
guishable from what is called the army of England. 

Mr. Burke somewhere says that nearly half of the 
early editions of Blackstone's Commentaries found their 
way to America. The framers of our Constitution were 
familiar with this work, and they have reproduced aU 
these four features of the English militia, substituting 



358 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

" State " for " county," and adopting even the peculiar 
exigencies when they are compellable to march " out of 
the State." Thus following Blackstone, they have rec- 
ognized an " army " and a " militia" without any third 
or intermediate military body. 

This same distinction between the militia and army 
was recognized by Mr. Charles Turner, in the British 
Parliament, in a speech on the Bill for embodying the 
Militia, November 2, 1775. "The proper men," he says, 
" to recruit and supply your troops are the scum and 
outcast of cities and manufactories : fellows who volun- 
tarily submit to be slaves by an apprenticeship of seven 
years are the proper persons to be military ones. But 
to take the honest, sober, industrious fellow from the 
plough is doing an essential mischief to the community, 
and laying a double tax." ^ 

Let us now apply these general considerations to the 
present case. 

The Act of May, 1846, recognizes a clear distinction 
between militia and volunteers. It authorizes the Pres- 
ident " to employ the militia, naval, and military forces 
of the United States, and to call for and accept the ser- 
vices of any number of volunteers, not exceeding fifty 
thousand, .... to serve twelve months after they shall 
have arrived at the place of rendezvous, or to the end of 
the war, unless sooner discharged." The next section 
(§ 2) provides that " the militia, when called into the 
service of the United States by virtue of this Act or any 
other Act, may, if in the opinion of the President of the 
United States the public interest requires it, be com- 
pelled to serve for a term not exceeding six months after 
their arrival at the place of rendezvous." The ninth 

1 Hansard, Pari. Hist., Vol. XVIII. col. 846. 



UNDER THE MEXICAN WAR BILL. 359 

section speaks of "militia or volunteers," referrino- to 
the two distinct classes. 

Now on the face of this Act there are at least two 
distinct recognitions that "volunteers" are not of the 
militia: 1st, in providing for the employment of vol- 
unteers and also of militia, treating the two as distinct; 
and, 2d, in providing that the service for volunteers 
shall be " twelve months or the war," while that of the 
militia is " six months " only. 

There are other reasons. 1st, The volunteers do not 
come by draft, but by contract. 2d, Then, again, the 
President is expressly empowered to apportion the staff, 
field, and general officers among the respective States 
and Territories from which the volunteers shall tender 
their services, while, in the supplementary Act of June 
26, major-generals and brigadier-generals are to be ap- 
pointed by the President by and with the advice and 
consent of the Senate, all of which, notwithstanding 
the sop to the States in the apportiormient provision, 
is inconsistent with the character of militia. 3d, An- 
other reason why these cannot be militia is, that no 
such exigency has occurred as authorizes the President 
to call for the mHitia, — as, for instance, "to execute the 
laws of the Union, suppress insurrections, and repel in- 
vasions." 

Thus far I have sought to bring the proposed body 
of volunteers to the touchstone of the Constitution 
and laws of the United States. Let us now see how 
they conform to the Constitution and laws of Massachu- 
setts. 

1. By the Constitution of Massachusetts, the Gover- 
nor is commander-in-chief of the militia ; but he can- 
not command these volunteers. 



360 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

2. By our State laws (Chap. 92, Marcli 24, 1840) vol- 
unteers in the militia are " to do duty for five years " ■, 
while volunteers under the Act in question .are for 
" twelve months or the war." 

3. " A uniform such as the commander-in-chief shall 
prescribe " is appointed for the volunteer militia, while 
volunteers under the Act are subject to no such regula- 
tion. 

4. The statute of 1846, chap. 218, § 10, provides that 
each company shall have "one first, one second, one 
third, and one fourth lieutenant." Mr. Secretary Mar- 
cy's requisition (p. 30 of Mr. Cushing's Eeport^) allows 
to each company " one first lieutenant and two second 
lieutenants." 

By provisions like these Massachusetts has marked 
her militia that she may know them. She tells them 
how they shall be appareUed and officered. But the 
body now called out is so apparelled and officered that 
the Commonwealth cannot recognize it as her militia. 

It seems clear, that, in the light of the Constitution 
and laws of the United States, and also of the Constitu- 
tion and laws of Massachusetts, this body cannot be a 
part of the militia. 

But it is suggested on the other side that the com- 
panies now raised may be regarded as companies of 
militia who volunteer as companies into the army of the 
United States ; and it is urged that the requisitions of 
the Constitution are complied with, inasmuch as the 
officers of the regiment are commissioned by the Gov- 
ernor. To this it may be replied, that the militia of the 
Commonwealth have certain specific duties detailed in 
the statute on the subject (Chap. 92, 1840). For instance 

1 Mass. House Doc. 1847, No. 7. 



UNDER THE MEXICAN WAR BILL. 361 

(§ 23), three parades in each year, and inspection on the 
last Wednesday of May; (§ 24) an inspection and review 
in each year ; (§ 27) and particularly to aid the ^osse 
comitafus in case of riot. These all contemplate that 
they shall remain at Jiome. Now it is not to be ques- 
tioned, that, in any of the exigencies mentioned by the 
Constitution, they may be ordered from home, i^i the man- 
ner prescribed hy the Constitution and laws; but it cer- 
tainly cannot be allowable for a company of militia to 
VOLUNTEER as a company into a service inconsistent with 
the duties prescribed by the laivs under which it is estab- 
lished. Adopting Mr. Monroe's distinction, the individ- 
uals can volunteer as citizens, but not as a company. 

Let us try this point by an analogy. The Common- 
wealth by its legislation (Eev. Stat., chap. 18) establishes 
companies of engine-men, who are to be appointed by 
the selectmen of towns, to protect from fires. Is it 
supposed that these companies can volunteer, as compa- 
nies, to enter the army of the United States, and go far 
away from the scene of the duties for which they were 
established ? But the companies of militia are hardly 
less local and home-abiding in character than the com- 
panies of engine-men. It is impossible to suppose that 
they can volunteer as companies into the " army " of the 
United States. 

But suppose, for the sake of argument, that companies 
of militia, as such, may volimteer into the service of the 
United States, under the Act of May, 184G, — do they 
continue to be militia ? Clearly not. They are in no 
wise subject to the laws of Massachusetts. Her Gov- 
ernor, who was so unfortunately prompt to put them in 
motion, cannot recall them, although he is commander- 
in-chief of her militia. They have not her uniform. 



362 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

Their officers are not her officers, but officers of the 
United States. The corps has become part of the army 
of the United States, or of its general military force. 

And this is the legal character of the present Massa- 
chusetts Regiment, if it have any legal character. 

" If shape it may be called, that shape has none 
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb. 
Or substance may be called that shadow seems." 

It is part of the " army " of the United States, and not 
of the " militia." 

Secondly. It being established that it is not of the 
militia, but of the army, the way is prepared for the 
consideration of the other questions. The first of these 
relates to the constitutionality of part of the Act un- 
der which the regiment is raised. Looking at Captain 
Webster's return in the present case, it will be perceived 
that he claims to hold the petitioner "because the said 
Samuel A. Stone has been duly enrolled and enlisted as 
a member of Company A of the First Eegiment of Mas- 
sachusetts Infantry, whereof the said Edward Webster 
has been duly commissioned Captain by his Excellency 
the Governor of this Commonwealth." On this return 
we have a question of double aspect. 1. Has Edward 
Webster a right to detain the petitioner ? 2. Is the pe- 
titioner liable to be detained by anybody ? It is possi- 
ble that the petitioner may be liable, although Edward 
Webster has no right to detain him. In other words, he 
may be legally enlisted as a soldier in the "army" of the 
United States, although Webster is not a legal officer. 

And, first, is Edward Webster legally commissioned 
as " an officer of the United States " ? This is an im- 
portant question, which concerns the validity of his acts. 
He should be anxious to know if he is a legal officer. 



UNDEK THE MEXICAN WAR BILL. 363 

that he may not bear the sword in vain. The attributes 
of a military officer are of a high order. He has power 
over human life and property to an extraordinary degree. 
He has power at once executive and judicial ; he is sheriff 
and judge. In these peculiar powers he is distinguish- 
able from common citizens. Such powers the Govern- 
ment can impart, — but only in certain ways 'precisely 
prescribed by the Constitution and laws, — only consti- 
tutionally, legally, and rightfully. And the question 
recurs. Have these powers been imparted in such wise 
to Edward Webster ? 

This is determined by the Constitution of the United 
States. That instrument provides explicitly the man- 
ner of appointing "of&cers of the United States." It 
says (Art. 2, § 2), " The President shall nominate, and 
by and with the advice and consent of the Senate shall 
appoint, ambassadors, other public ministers, and consuls, 
judges of the Supreme Court, and cdl other officers of the 
United States whose appointments are not herein other- 
wise provided for, and which shall be established by 
law ; but the Congress may by law vest the appoint- 
ment of such inferior officers as they think proper in 
the President alone, in the courts of law, or in the heads 
of departments." In the next clause it declares, that 
" the President shall have power to fill up all vacancies 
that may happen during the recess of the Senate, hj 
granting commissions which shall expire at the end of 
their next session." 

Erom these clauses it appears that all " officers of 
the United States " are nominated, and by and with the 
advice and consent of the Senate are appointed, by the 
President; and it is inferred that they are "commis- 
sioned " by the President. 



364 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

Now two questions arise : whether an officer in the 
" army " of the United States is an " officer of the 
United States " in the sense of the Constitution, and 
whether he is an "inferior officer." 

He is not an " inferior officer " in the sense of the 
Constitution ; for his appointment has never been vested 
" in the President alone, in the courts of law, or in the 
heads of departments." 

He is an " officer of the United States." In support 
of this is universal custom, which has always treated 
him as such, the express action of President Monroe 
and Congress in 1821 with regard to the office of Ad- 
jutant-General (3 Story, Com. on Const. § 1531, note), 
and sundry precedents. 

I conclude, therefore, that Edward Webster, assuming 
to be an " officer of the United States," but not having 
been " nominated by the President, and by and with 
the advice and consent of the Senate appointed," nor 
being " commissioned " by the President, is not con- 
stitutionally an officer of the " army " of the United 
States, nor entitled to detain the petitioner. He is 
commissioned by the Governor of Massachusetts, who 
cannot give any power in the " army " of the United 
States. 

The question next arises, whether any person is 
authorized to detain the petitioner. Webster is not. 
Who is ? 

The petitioner has been mustered into the service of 
the United States, not as an individual citizen, but as 
a member of tJie company of which Webster assumes to 
be captain. If the company has no legal existence as 
a company, all the proceedings are void. But the com- 
pany becomes such only through its officers. Until its 



UNDER THE MEXICAN WAR BILL. 365 

officers are chosen, it is an embryo, not a legal body. 
But its officers never have been chosen in any consti- 
tutional way. The company is, therefore, still un])orn. 
Or rather, to adopt tlie illustration of the Eoman Tri- 
bune, the "belly" is produced, but the "head and 
hands " are wanting ; so that it is impossible to present 
a complete body. 

The conclusion is, that the petitioner is not liable 
to be held in the service of the United States. This 
stands upon the unconstitutionality of that part of the 
law of Congress relating to the peculiar organization 
of this corps. 

This same error Congress has committed before. The 
Act of February 24, 1807 (Statutes at Large, Vol. II. 
p. 419), provides for volunteers in companies, " whose 
commissioned officers shall be appointed in the manner 
prescribed by law in the several States and Territories 
to which such companies shall respectively belong." 
In the Act of February 6, 1812 (Statutes at Large, VoL 
II. p. 676), these words are repeated. But at a later day 
it seems the mistake was discovered. By the Act of 
January 27, 1815, it is provided (§ 4) " that the officers 
of the said volunteers shall be commissioned by the 
President of the United States " ; and also (§ 8) " that 
the appointment of the officers of the said volunteers, 
if received into the service of the United States for the 
term of twelve months, or for a longer term, shall be 
submitted to the Senate, for their advice and consent, at 
their next session after commissions for the same shall 
have been issued." This bill was much considered in 
Congress.^ Notwithstanding all this, the same error is 
repeated in the Act of May, 1846. 

1 See Niles's Register, Vol. VII. pp. 313, 333, 352. 



366 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

I submit, that it will be the duty of the Court to 
declare the Act of May, so far as it relates to the or- 
ganization of the volunteers, unconstitutional, and all 
the proceedings under it a nullity. 

Thirdly. But if the law should be regarded as con- 
stitutional, it is further submitted that the proceedings 
under it in Massachusetts have been illegal in two re- 
spects : first, by the action of the National Government ; 
and, secondly, by the action of the Commonwealth. 

At present we will consider the illegality on the part 
of the National Government. 

The Act of May provides for volunteers "to serve 
twelve months after they shall have arrived at the place 
of rendezvous, or to the end of the war, unless sooner 
discharged." But by the requisition of Mr. Secretary 
Marcy they are to serve " during the war with Mexico, 
unless sooner discharged," which is a different term 
from that in the law. 

The right to enlist soldiers is determined by the laws. 
Its exact extent is measured there. It is not dependent 
upon the judgment or conscience of any Secretary, — as 
if his foot were the standard of physical measure. The 
law expressly says, that the enlistment is to be for 
"twelve months or the war." Now it cannot have 
been the intention of Congress to obtain enlistments for 
the indefinite period of the war, — for ten years, like the 
Trojan War, or thirty years, like that of Wallenstein, in 
Germany. They wished to hold volunteers for twelve 
months, or even for a shorter time, if the war should be 
ended sooner ; and at the time of this untoward Act it 
was supposed that it would be ended sooner. The mili- 
tia, in this Act, are called out for " six months " only. 

By the Act of February 24, 1807 (Statutes at Large, 



UNDER THE MEXICAN WAR BILL. 367 

Vol. II. p. 419), the volunteers are " for the term of 
twelve months after they shall have arrived at the 
place of rendezvous, unless sooner discharged " ; and for 
the same term by the Act of February 6, 1812 (Vol. II. 
p. 676). But by the Act of February 24, 1814 (Vol. III. 
p. 98), the term was "five years, or during the war." By 
the Act of January 27, 1815 (Vol. III. p. 193), the term 
was "not less than twelve months." By the Act of Jan- 
uary 27, 1814 (Vol. III. p. 94), the term of soldiers in the 
regular army was " five years, or during the war." I 
mention these precedents, to show that this question 
may have arisen before, although we have no reports of 
it from any judicial tribunal. But we have the express 
opinion of the late Mr. Justice Johnson, of the Supreme 
Court of the United States, in a note to Ms elaborate Life 
of General Greene, written not long after the Acts of 
Congress to which I have referred. It was printed in 
1822. He says : " The point on which the Pennsylvania 
line really grounded their revolt was the same which has 
been more recently much agitated between the American 
Government and its army. The soldiers were enlisted 
for a certain number of years, or the war. At the ex- 
piration of the term of years they demanded their dis- 
charge ; and after resisting this just claim, and sustain- 
ing all the terrors and real dangers of a revolt, .... the 
Government was obliged to acquiesce. For so many 
years or the war certainly meant for that time, if the 
war shoiild so long last. Else why specify a term of 
years ? — as enlistments for the war would have expressed 
the sense of the contracting parties." (Vol. II. p. 53, 
note.) 

Oh the authority of Mr. Justice Johnson, the question 
seems to be clear. But if there be any doubt, the in- 



368 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

clination must be against the Government. They are 
the powerful and intelligent party ; the soldier is power- 
less and ignorant. The Government are the inviting, 
offering, promising party. To them applies the rule. 
Verba fortms accipiuntur contra proferentem} 

But it is said on the other side, that the "twelve 
months " have not yet expired ; and it does not follow 
that the volunteers will be detained beyond that period. 
But the case now is to be judged on the contract. Is the 
contract legal or illegal, under the Act of Congress ? It 
is submitted that it is illegal. 

FourtJily. I submit that the proceedings in Massachu- 
setts under the Act of March are illegal, inasmuch as 
they are a fraud upon the militia laws of the Common- 
wealth. This brings me to a part of the case humiliat- 
ing to Massachusetts. 

We have already seen the purpose of these laws, con- 
templating the performance of duties at home, — as, in 
preserving the peace, and aiding the posse comitatus. 
These purposes are distinctly declared by the Legisla- 
ture. (Chap. 92, 1840.) But by the agency of State of- 
ficers these laws have been employed — I would say, pros- 
tituted — to a purpose widely different : not to help pre- 
serve the peace at home, but to destroy peace abroad. 
It appears from the communication of the Adjutant- 
General, that he resorted to the device or invention of 
using the militia laws of the State in order to enlist 
soldiers to make war on Mexico. The following is 
the form of an appKcation to be organized as a com- 
pany of the Massachusetts militia, — the applicant ex- 
pressly setting forth objects inconsistent with the duties 
of the militia. 

1 Bacon, Maxims of the Law, Reg. III. 



UNDEK THE MEXICAN WAR BILL. 369 

" CiiARLESTOWN, January 4, 1847. 
*' To His Excellency, George N. ]h-i(/(j.<, Governor and Com- 
mander-in-Chief of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. 

" Sir, — The undersigned, in behalf of himself and his as- 
sociates, whose names are duly enrolled therefor, respectfully 
requests that they may be duly organized as a company, to 
be annexed to the First Regiment of Massachusetts Infantry : 
it being understood, that, when so organized, they desire and 
assent to he placed at the disposal of the President of the United 
States, to serve during the existing war with Mexico. And as 
in duty bound will ever pray. 

(Signed,) " John S. Barker." 

Thus the Executive of the Commonwealth placed all 
the apparatus and energy of the Adjutant-General, and 
of the militia laws, at the service of certain petitioners, 
well knowing that these persons were not to enlist hona 
fide in the honest militia of Massachusetts, but with 
the distinct understanding that they should be placed 
at the disposal of the President of the United States, to 
serve during the existing war with Mexico. I do not 
complain that the Governor or the Adjutant-General 
lent himself officially or personally to this purpose, 
though I have my regrets on this score ; but I do com- 
plain that the laws of Massachusetts are prostituted to 
this purpose. 

It has been decided by the Supreme Court of the 
United States, in Prigg v. Pennsylvania (16 Peters, 
539), tliat State officers are not obliged to enforce United 
States laws. The Nation must execute its laws by its 
own officers. Under the lead of this decision, the Legis- 
lature of Massachusetts passed a law making it penal 
for State officers to arrest or detain in public buildings 
VOL. I. — 24 



370 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

any person for the reason that he is claimed as a fugitive 
slave (Act of 1843, Chap. 69), although the Act of Con- 
gress of 1793 contemplates the action of State officers. 
By this legislation Massachusetts has clearly shown her 
determination to take advantage of the principle in 
Prigg's case. The Governor and the Adjutant-General, 
not heeding the spirit of our Commonwealth, made 
themselves recruiting officers of the United States, as 
much as if they had enlisted sailors for the ship-of-war 
Ohio, now lying in our harbor. 

How much soever tliis may be deplored, it forms no 
ground for any legal questioning of their acts. What 
they did, under the directions of an Act of Congress, as 
agents of the United States, would be legal, provided it 
was not forbidden by the laws of the State. But al- 
though they might volunteer as agents of the United 
States in raising troops for the Mexican "VYar, acting 
under the law of Congress, they cannot cmigloy tlie State 
laws for this purpose. They cannot be justified in di- 
verting the laws of the State to purposes not originally 
contemplated by these laws, and inconsistent with their 
whole design and character. Such was the employ- 
ment of the militia laws of Massachusetts. These laws 
have been made by the Executive the instruments, the 
" decoy-ducks," to get together the Falstafif regiment 
whose existence is now drawn in question. The whole 
proceeding is a fraud on those laws. 

It is the duty of this Court, as conservators of the 
laws of the Commonwealth, bound to see that they 
receive no detriment, to guard them from such a per- 
version from their true and original purpose. This can 
be done only by annulling the proceedings that have 
taken place under them. 



UNDER THE MEXICAN WAR BILL. 371 

Such are the objections to the legal character of the 
Massachusetts Regiment. If either of these should pre- 
vail, then the whole regiment is virtually dissolved. 
It becomes a mere name. Stat Twminis umbra. Or it 
is left a mere voluntary association, without that quick- 
ening principle which is necessary to a mihtary organ- 
isation under the Constitution and laws of the United 
States. It is like the monster Frankenstein, the crea- 
tion of audacious human hands, endowed with a human 
form, but wanting a soul. 

Fifthly. But suppose the Court should hesitate to 
pronounce the nullity of these proceedings, and should 
recognize the legal existence of the regiment, it then 
becomes important to determine whether there are any 
special circumstances in the case of the petitioner which 
will justify his discharge. The party that I represent 
is a minor, and as such entitled to his discharge. The 
question on this point I have reserved to the last, be- 
cause I wished to consider it after the inquiry whether 
the regiment was a part of the " army " or the " militia," 
in order to disembarrass it of considerations that might 
arise from the circumstance that the militia laws em- 
brace minors. I assume now that the regiment, if it 
have any legal existence, is a part of the "army." 

The jurisprudence of all countries wisely provides a 
certain period of majority, at which persons are sup- 
posed to be able to make contracts. This by the Com- 
mon Law is the age of twenty-one. 

Now enlistment in the army of the United States 
is a contract. The parties are volunteers, and the term 
implies contract. And the question arises, whether this 
contract is governed by the Common Law, so as to be 
voidable when made by a minor. Is the circumstance 



372 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

that the contract is made with the Government any 
ground of exception ? If an infant were to contract 
with the Government to sell a piece of land, he would 
not be bound by it any more than if the contract were 
with a private person. Is the circumstance that the 
contract is military any ground of exception ? If an 
infant were to contract to furnish military supplies to 
Government, he could not be held more than by any 
private individual. 

The rule of the Common Law as to the incapacity of 
infants is specific. An exception to it must be estab- 
lished by express legislation, — as, in the case of ca- 
pacity to make a will, to marry, or to serve in the mili- 
tia. Congress has recognized this principle by expressly 
declaring, on several occasions, that persons between the 
ages of eighteen and twenty-one may be enlisted. The 
argument from this is clear, that without exjprcss pro- 
vision such enlistments would not be binding. The Acts 
of January 11, 1812 (Statutes at Large, Vol. 11. p. 671), 
and December 10, 1814 (Ibid., Vol. IIL p. 146), contain 
such provisions. And we are able from contemporary 
history to ascertain what was the understanding con- 
cerning them. I refer particularly to Niles's Eegister, 
Vol. III. p. 207, and the discussion there on the first 
of these Acts ; also to Vol. VII. p. 308, where will be 
found an important document making this legislation 
of Congress a special subject of complaint. 

It is argued, however, that the United States have no 
Common Law, and cannot, therefore, be governed by the 
rules of majority therein estabhshed. Although it may 
be decided that the United States have no Common Law 
as a source of jurisdiction, yet it cannot be questioned 
that they have a Cormnon Law so far as may be neces- 



UNDER THE MEXICAN WAR BILL. 373 

sary in determining the signification of words and the 
capacity of persons. Idiots and femes-coverts would 
not be held as volunteers in the army of the United 
States; but their capacity is determined by the Com- 
mon Law, and not by any special legislation. 

I conclude, therefore, that the contract of enlistment 
in this regiment may be avoided by a minor. 

It may be in the power of the Court to discharge the 
petitioner without passing upon all the grave questions 
which I have now presented. But I confidently sub- 
mit, that, if these proceedings are unconstitutional and 
illegal, as I have urged, if the regiment is a nullity, 
as I believe, the truth should be declared. The regi- 
ment is soon to embark for foreign war, when its mem- 
bers will be beyond the kindly protection of this Court. 
It will be for the Court to determine whether it may 
not, by a just judgment, vindicate the injured laws of 
Massachusetts, and discharge many fellow-citizens from 
obligations imposed in violation of the Constitution and 
laws of the land. 



WITHDRAWAL OF AMERICAN TROOPS 
FROM MEXICO. 

Speech at a Public Meeting in Faneuil Hall, Boston, 
February 4, 1847. 



Hon. Samuel Greele presided at this meeting. The other speakers, 
besides Mr. Sumner, were Rev. James Freeman Clarke, Hon. John 
M. Williams, Rev. Theodore Parker, Elizur Wright, and Dr. Walter 
Channing. There was interruption at times from lawless persons try- 
ing to drown the voice of the speaker. One of the papers remarks, that 
" a number of the volunteers were among the most active." 

Mr. Chairman and Fellow-Citizens, — 

IN the winter of 1775, five years after what was called 
the " massacre " in King Street, now State Street, a 
few months only before the Battles of Lexington and 
Bunker Hill, Boston was occupied by a British army un- 
der General Gage, — as Mexican Monterey, a town not 
far from the size of Boston in those days, is now occu- 
pied by American troops under General Taylor. The 
people of Boston felt keenly all the grievance of this 
garrison, holding the control of Massachusetts Bay with 
iron hand. With earnest voice they called for its with- 
drawal, as the beginning of reconciliation and peace. 
Their remonstrances found ud expected echo in the House 
of Lords, when Lord Chatham, on the 20th of January, 
brought forward his memorable motion for the with- 
drawal of the troops from Boston. Josiah Quincy, Jr., 
dear to Bostonians for his own services, and for the ser- 
vices of his descendants in two generations, was present 



WITHDRAWAL OF TROOPS FROM MEXICO. 375 

on this occasion, and has preserved an interesting and 
authentic sketch of Lord Chatham's speech. From his 
report I take the following important words. 

"There ought to be no delay in entering upon this matter. 
We ought to proceed to it immediately. Wc ought to seize the 
first moment to open the door of reconciUation. The Ameri- 
cans will never be in a temper or state to be reconciled, — 
they ought not to be, — till the troops are withdrawn. The 
troops are a perpetual irritation to these people ; they are a bar 
to all confidence and all cordial reconcilement. I, therefore, 
my Lords, move, ' That an humble address be presented to 
His Majesty, most humbly to advise and beseech His Majesty, 
that, in order to open the way towards an happy settlement 
of the dangerous troubles in America, by begiiming to allay 
ferments and soften animosities there, and above all for pre- 
venting in the mean time any sudden and fatal catastrophe 
at Boston, now sufteriug under the daily irritation of an army 
befoi'e their eyes, posted in their town, it may graciously 
please His Majesty that immediate orders may be despatched 
to General Gage for removing His Majesty's forces from, the 
town of Boston, as soon as the rigor of the season, and other 
circumstances indispensable to the safety and accommodation 
of the said troops, may render the same practicable.' " ^ 

It is to promote a similar measure of justice and recon- 
ciliation that we are now assembled. Adopting the lan- 
guage of Chatham, we ask the cessation of this unjust war, 
and the withdrawal of the American forces from Mex- 
ico, "as soon as the rigor of the season, and other circum- 
stances indispensable to the safety and accommodation 
of the said troops, may render the same practicable." 

It is hoped that this movement will extend throughout 
the country, but it is proper that it should begin here. 
Boston herself in former times suffered. The war-horse 

1 Life of Josiah Quincy, Jr., p. 320. 



376 WITHDRAAYAL OF TROOPS FROM MEXICO. 

was stalled in one of her most venerable churclies. Her 
streets echoed to the tread of hostile troops. Her inhabi- 
tants were waked by the morning drum-beat of oppressors. 
On their own narrow peninsula they have seen the smoke 
of an enemy's camp. Though these things are beyond the 
memory of any in this multitude, yet faithful History 
has entered them on her record, so that they can never 
be forgotten. It is proper, then, that Boston, mindful of 
the past and of her own trials, mindful of her own plead- 
ings for the withdrawal of the British troops, as the be- 
oinnino- of reconciliation, should now come forward and 
ask for others what she once so earnestly asked for herself. 
It is proper that Boston should confess her obligations to 
the generous eloquence of Chatham, by ^-indicating his 
arguments of policy, humanity, and justice, in their ap- 
plication to the citizens of a sister Eepublic. Franklin, 
in dispensing a charity, said to the receiver, " When you 
are able, return this, — not to me, but to some one in 
need, like yourself now." In the same spirit, Boston 
should now repay her debt by insisting on the with- 
drawal of the American troops from Mexico. 

Other considerations call upon her to take the lead. 
Boston has always led the generous actions of our his- 
tory. Boston led the cause of the Eevolution. Here com- 
menced that discussion, pregnant Tvdth independence, 
which, at first occupying a few warm, but true spirits only, 
finally absorbed all the best energies of the continent, the 
eloquence of Adams, the patriotism of Jefferson, the 
wisdom of Washington. Boston is the home of noble 
charities, the nurse of true learning, the city of churches. 
By all these tokens she stands conspicuous ; and other 
parts of the coimtry are not unwilling to follow her ex- 
ample. Athens was called " the eye of Greece." Boston 



WITHDKAWAL OF TEOOPS FROM MEXICO. 377 

may be called " the eye of America " ; and the influence 
which she exerts proceeds not from size, — for there are 
other cities larger far, — but from moral and intellectual 
character. It is only just, then, that a town foremost 
in the struggles of the Eevolution, foremost in all the 
humane and enlightened labors of our country, should 
take the lead now. 

The war in which the United States are engaged has 
been from this platform pronounced unconstitutional. 
Such was the judgment of him who has earned the title 
of Defender of the Constitution. Would that, instead 
of innocuous threat to impeach its alleged author, he 
had spoken in the spirit of another time, when, brand- 
ing an appropriation as unconstitutional, he boldly said 
he would not vote for it, if the enemy were thunder- 
ing at the gates of the Capitol ! 

Assuming that the war commenced in violation of the 
Constitution, we have ample reason for its arrest on this 
account alone. Of course the troops should be with- 
dra^vn to where they were, when, in defiance of the 
Constitution, they moved upon disputed territory. 

But the war is not only imconstitutional, it is unjust, 
and it is vile in object and character. It had its origin 
in a well-known series of measures to extend and j^er- 
petuate Slavery. It is a war which must ever be odious 
in history, beyond the outrages of brutality wliicli dis- 
grace other nations and times. It is a sla^•e-driving 
war. In principle it is only a little above those miser- 
able conflicts between barbarian chiefs of Central Africa 
to obtain slaves for the inhuman 'markets of Brazil 
Such a war must be accursed in the sight of God. ^Miy 
is it not accursed in the sight of man ? 

We are told that the country is engaged in the war, 



378 WITHDRAWAL OF TROOPS FROM MEXICO. 

and therefore it must be maintained, or, as it is some- 
times expressed, vigorously prosecuted. In other words, 
the violation of the Constitution and the outrage upon 
justice sink out of sight, and we are urged to these same 
acts again. By what necromancy do these pass from 
wrong to right ? In what book of morals is it written, 
that what is bad before it is undertaken becomes righteous 
merely from the circumstance that it is commenced ? 
Who on earth is authorized to transmute wrong into 
right ? Wlioso admits the unconstitutionality and injus- 
tice of the war, and yet sanctions its prosecution, must 
approve the Heaven-defying sentiment, " Our country, 
right or wrong." Can this be the sentiment of Boston ? 
If so, in vain are her cliildren nurtured in the churches 
of the Pilgrims, in vain fed from the common table of 
knowledge bountifully supplied by our common schools. 
Who would profess allegiance to wrong ? Who would 
deny allegiance to right ? Eight is one of the attributes 
of God, or rather it is part of his Divinity, immortal as 
himself. Tlie mortal cannot be higher than the immortal. 
Had this sentiment been received by our English de- 
fenders in the war of the Eevolution, no fiery tongue of 
Chatham, Burke, Fox, or Camden would have been heard 
in our behalf. Their great testimony would have failed. 
All would have been silenced, while crying that the coun- 
try, right or wrong, must be carried through the war. 

Here is a gross confusion of opposite duties in cases of 
deferice and of offence. When a country is invaded, its soil 
j)fessed by hostile footsteps, its churches desecrated, its 
inhabitants despoiled of homes, its national life assailed, 
then the indignant spirit of a free people rises to repel 
the aggressor. Such an occasion challenges all the ener- 
gies of self-defence. It has about it all that dismal glory 



WITHDRAWAL OF TROOPS FROM MEXICO. 379 

which can be earned in scenes of human strife. But if it 
be right to persevere in defence, it must be wrong to per- 
severe in offence. If the Mexicans are right in defending 
their homes, we certainly are wrong in invading them. 

The present war is offensive in essence. As such it 
loses all shadow of title to support. The acts of cour- 
age and hardihood which in a just cause might excite 
regard, when performed in an unrighteous cause, have 
no quality that can commend them to virtuous sympa- 
thy. The victories of aggression and injustice are a 
grief and shame. Blood wrongfully shed cries from 
the ground drenched with the fraternal tide. 

The enormous expenditures lavished upon this war, 
now extending to fifty millions of dollars, — we have 
been told recently on the floor of the Senate that they 
were near one hundred millions, — are another reason 
for its cessation. The soul sickens at the contempla- 
tion of this incalculable sum diverted from purposes 
of usefulness and beneficence, from railroads, colleges, 
hospitals, schools, and churches, under whose genial in- 
fluences the country would blossom as a rose, and des- 
ecrated to the wicked purposes of unjust war. In any 
righteous self-defence even these expenditures would 
be readily incurred. The saying of an early father 
of the Eepublic, which roused its enthusiasm to un- 
wonted pitch, was, " Millions for Defence, not a cent 
for Tribute." Another sentiment more pertinent to our 
times would be, " Not a cent for Offence." 

And why is this war to be maintained ? According 
to the jargon of the day, " to conquer a peace." But if 
we ask for peace in the spirit of peace, we must begin by 
doing justice to Mexico. We are the aggressors. We 
are now in the wrong. We must do all in our power 



380 WITHDRAWAL OF TROOPS FROM MEXICO. 

to set ourselves right. This surely is not by brutal 
effort to conquer Mexico. Our military force is so far 
greater than hers, that even conquest must be without 
the wretched glory which men covet, while honor is 
impossible from successful adherence to original acts of 
wi^ong. "To conquer a peace" may have a sensible 
signification, when a nation is acting in self-defence; 
but it is base, unjust, and atrocious, when the war is of 
offence. Peace in such a war, if founded on conquest, 
must be the triumph of injustice, the consummation of 
wrong. It is unlike that true peace won by justice or 
forbearance. It cannot be sanctioned by the God of 
Christians. To the better divinities of heathenism it 
would be offensive. It is of such a peace that the Eoman 
historian, whose ]3en is as keen as a sword's sharp point, 
says, " Auferre, trucidare, rapere, falsis nominibus, Im- 
PERIUM ; atquc, nhi solitudinem faciimt, Pacem af-pel- 
lant" : With lying names, they call spoliation, murder, 
and rapine, Empire ; and when they have produced the 
desolation of solitude, they call it Peace} 

The present course of our country, I have said, is op- 
posed to those principles which govern men in private 
life. Few, if any, of the conspicuous advocates for the 
maintenance of this war would hesitate, if found wrong in 
any private transaction, to retreat at once. With proper 
apology they would repair their error, while they recoiled 
from the very suspicion of perseverance. Such should 
be the conduct of the Nation ; for it cannot be said too 
often, that the general rules of morals are the same for 
individuals and states. "A commonwealth," says Milton, 
" ought to be but as one huge Christian personage, one 
mighty growth and stature of an honest man, as big and 

1 Tacitus, Agricola, c. 30. 



WITHDRAWAL OF TROOPS FROM MEXICO. 381 

compact in virtue as in body. For look wliat the grounds 
and causes are of single happiness to one man, the sanxe ye 
shall find them to a whole state ; by consequence, there- 
fore, that which is good and agreeable to the state will 
appear soonest to be so by being good and agreeable to 
the true welfare of every Christian, and that which can be 
justly proved hurtful and offensive to every true Chris- 
tian wiU be evinced to be alike hurtful to the state." ^ 

I adopt the sentiments of Milton, and ask. Is not per- 
severance in wrong-doing hurtful and offensive to every 
Christian ? Is not perseverance in wrong-doing hurtful 
and offensive to every Christian commonwealth ? And 
is it not doubly so, when the opposite party is weak 
and the offender strong ? 

There are other considerations, arising from our fel- 
lowship with Mexico, which plead for her. She is our 
neighbor and sister republic, who caught her first im- 
pulse to independence from our example, rejecting the en- 
signs of royalty to follow simpler, purer forms. She has 
erred often, and suffered much, under the rule of selfish 
and bad men. But she is our neighbor and sister still, en- 
titled to the rights of neighborhood and sisterhood. Many 
of her citizens are well known in our country, where they 
established relations of respect and amity. One of them, 
General Almonte, her recent minister at Washington, was 
a favored guest in the social circles of the capital. He 
is personally known to many who voted the supplies for 
this cruel war upon his country. The representative from 
Boston refers to him in terms of personal regard. Ad- 
dressing any of these friends, how justly might this Mex- 
ican adopt the words of Franklin, in his remarkable letter 
to Mr. Stralian, of the British Parliament ! 

1 Of Reformation m England, Book II. : Prose Works, Vol. I. p. 29. 



382 WITHDRAWAL OF TROOPS FROM MEXICO. 

" Philadelphia, 5 July, 1775. 
" Mr. Strahan, — You are a member of Parliament, and 
one of that majority which doomed my country to destruc- 
tion. You have begun to bum our towns and murder our 
people. Look upon your hands : they are stained with the 
hlood of your relations ! You and I were long friends : you 
are now my enemy, and I am yours, 

" B. Franklin." ^ 

The struggle in Mexico against the United States, and 
that of our fathers against England, have their points of 
resemblance.. Prominent among these is the aggressive 
character of the proceedings, in the hope of crushing a 
weaker people. But the parallel fails as yet in an im- 
portant particular. The injustice of England roused her 
most distinguished sons, in her own Parliament, to ; all 
for the cessation of the war. It inspired the eloquence 
of Chatham to those strains of undying fame. In the Sen- 
ate of the United States there is a favorite son of Massa- 
chusetts, to whom has been accorded powers unsurpassed 
by those of any English orator. He has now before him 
the cause of Chatham. His country is engaged in un- 
righteous war. Join now in asking him to raise his elo- 
quent voice in behaK of justice, and of peace founded 
on justice ; and may the spirit of Chatham descend upon 
him ! 

Let us call upon the whole country to rally in this 
cause. And may a voice go forth from Faneuil Hall to- 
night, awakening fresh echoes throughout the valleys of 
New England, — swelling as it proceeds, and gathering 
new reverberations in its ample volume, — traversing the 
whole land, and still receiving other voices, till it reaches 
our rulers at Washington, and, in tones of thunder, de- 
mands the cessation of this unjust war ! 

1 Works, ed. Sparks, Vol. VIII. p. 155. 



'^V 87 



